The Domino Effect - Undergoing rewrite on AO3
by DarkSinner666
Summary: Forced into hiding, Sygil has no choice but to find a solution to his predicament before it is too late using unconventional means. But when his world comes crashing down and the clock is ticking, what is a real demon from outside of Yggdrasil to do? Well, build an Empire to rival any seen before to gain revenge, and crush any who would dare oppose him by any means necessary...
1. Author's Note

**Hello dear reader.**

I have attached this Author's note at the start of the story so you have somewhat of an idea to expect from this story, as well as to answer any general queries you may or may not have.

**But first, a full disclaimer.**

**I do NOT own any of the rights to the Overlord franchise, including names, characters and locations. I only own my OC's and any other other non-Overlord content that I may create for this story. This is purely a work of fan-fiction and is not intended to by any means infringe on the rights of any original copyright holders.**

Now onto the story, where I hope to briefly address any concerns or queries you as a reader might have.

**I thought this was about a demon OC creating an empire in the New World?**

This is correct. However, the initial chapters are to help set the stage and provide some exposition so later on the story I'm not mentioning choices, characters and abilities without making it seem like I am pulling things out of my ass for the sake of plot armour/plot convenience.

Therefore, I need to spend a couple chapters establishing many things, all of which will be referenced and come back to play a role of some sort in my story, whether for overall plot, or small details that help explain minor things, such as character motivations, strengths, weaknesses and much more. I do want this story to feel somewhat fleshed out and authentic.

**You rated this as T, but some Chapters you have advised as being M? What's the scoop? Why not rate it M from the get-go?  
**

This technically is an M rated story, though since the early chapters are around a T-rating in my personal opinion, I feel it is safe for marketing for now. Shameless I know ;-;

I will probably increase the overall rating to M once the story progresses to a certain point, though I will provide an advance notice in the relevant prior chapter/s so as not to catch too many people off-guard.

**If the story is M, what content can we expect to justify this?**

Content that some people would deem as either offensive, dark or mature, including:

\- Strong graphic and bloody violence

\- Blood and gore

\- Strong language

\- Drug and alcohol references and use

\- Some sexual content and violence

\- Potentially other content such as references to discrimination, etc.

**What about your update schedule?**

Not set currently due to other commitments and life. I will make an effort to upload regularly (subjective to what reader deems as regular, but generally between several days to a week of the last update) and will notify if any delays occur.


	2. Of Angels and Demons

**Author's Note:**

** With the exception of Original Characters and content created, all characters,locations and other content associated with Overlord belong to their respective copyright holders and owners and in no way is this work of fan-fiction intended to infringe on those rights.**

* * *

** Content Warnings:**

** \- This story will contain content that might be deemed offensive to certain readers. Therefore viewer discretion is advised.**

**\- Not all chapters are created equally, therefore the rating may fluctuate begin T and M in certain chapters. Recommended ratings will be posted at the start of each chapter.**

** \- Otherwise, please enjoy and submit any and all feedback  
**

**The suggested age rating for this chapter is: M**

**\- Bloody violence**

**\- Strong language**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Of Angels and Demons**

The sound of a single piano, gentle and tranquil in melody, resonated out from the bar. All of the patrons had long since left the bar, leaving the barkeep, who was calmly polishing the remaining mugs and glasses for tomorrow's customers, to silently listen to the lone performer.

The darkness outside of the night sky, coupled with faint golden lights within the barroom, further accentuated the melodious solo performance.

Slowly, the lone performer furthered the gentle motions of pressing the keys on the piano, each note striking true to the original song. The piece the performer played was a timeless masterpiece, at least in his opinion, from a bygone era. _Moonlight Sonata_. Even the name sounded mystical and nostalgic to him. And him? Well, his name was far from mystical and nostalgic, hell, he could hardly even remember his real name. While he was young in appearance, in reality he was much older. His fashion choice was also somewhat antique by modern standards. Who would wear a full-out suit and dress pants, especially in this locale? All of the fancy higher-ups and CEO's lived on the other-side of town. Yet still, he had chosen to come to this bar, to this piano, to perform his piece.

The man in question was dressed in a black suit and jacket, with matching black dress pants and a black full-sleeve dress shirt. A red tie with a faint embroidery pattern fit snugly around his neck. Stylistic black boots vanished under the hem of his pant legs, affording environmental practicality while not being aesthetically out of place with his overall dress attire.

Two gold and silver cuff-links adorned the wrists of his suit and shirt sleeves, an intricate yet simplistic pattern carved into them. Black leather gloves adorned his hands, offering no added extra bulkiness or impracticality to anything he may choose to handle, including the very piano he was playing. An ornate gold watch, fairly compact in size, adorned his left wrist but was kept out of sight by his shirt and suit-jacket. The man's face was flawless and clean-shaven; not a mole or mark adorned his face. His face held a passive expression with half-lidded eyes as he gently played the first verse of the song. His dark brown hair was neatly combed and gelled back, his fringe suspended perfectly over his forehead. While his hair was long enough for a small mullet, it too was combed back, adding a professional sense of self control. By many, he would have been considered handsome.

The bar-door opened, accompanied by its usual creak. The pianist could hear the footsteps get closer until they were mere feet away. Next, a chair was pulled out, and the man could hear the sound of someone sitting down. Without bothering to glance over acknowledge this newcomers presence, the man continued his performance.

As he picked up his pace, he could hear the newcomer gently tapping his hands to his legs in synch with the song. Even the barkeep temporarily stopped to watch the solo performance, mesmerised by absolute beauty of both the song itself and the performer's skill. As the performer closed his performance with the gentle outro, gentle clapping could be heard from the direction of the newcomer, followed shortly by the barkeep, who then resumed cleaning.

As the pianist began to slowly close the lid on the piano, the newcomer spoke, the alluring German-accented voice belonging to a male.

"I always appreciated music, as you do. Not many people know how to appreciate music these days. Your performance was extraordinary, Mr. Amadeus. I applaud it. However, I can't wait to hear your death throes. They will be true music to my ears."

At those words, the temperature of the room seemed to drop. Mr. Amadeus' eyes shot to his left to take in the newcomer, while the barkeep looked up.

The newcomer was a polar opposite of Mr Amadeus. While he was dressed in all black, the newcomer was dressed similarly in all white, with white dress shoes, a white fedora with a gold trim, no gloves and a gold-coloured tie. A gold stopwatch with a chain hung from the left breast-pocket of the man's outer jacket, who sat back relaxed in the simple wooden chair, an antique nearly. The man had sharp features, sporting a predatory smile, with blond hair and cold, blue eyes.

"However, I am willing to wait and let you grovel for mercy. After all, unlike the others, I think such a performance warrants proper closure, do you not agree?"

Amadeus slowly turned his body on the stool and positioned his feet before the newcomer, before retorting back coldly.

"Look what the cat dragged in. Not only a dead rat, but its metaphorical shit-stain as well. Hmm? Where's your leash? I thought your Exalted Masters liked to keep their pets within arm's reach?"

The newcomer growled in agitation.

"A thing such as yourself should know your place and be more respectful of its superiors, not that I expected better from you, like the filthy demon you are."

"Hardly." Amadeus rolled his eyes in disinterest. "I like food on my table, not scraps barely fit for a dog. So why don't you scurry away back to your masters and beg for a treat like a good dog."

"Yes, well, my masters are tired of reincarnating mere lackeys only to have them turned into dog food. Literally in your case. You've garnered quite the reputation, Mr Amadeus."

Amadeus merely grunted in annoyance. "So what, they decided to send the next bitch in heat they could find in hopes that it would overpower me?"

The newcomer mocked being in deep thought before devilishly replying with a returning grin. "No. Rather, they decided an Exalted was needed to deal with issue at hand. It requires a delicate touch, after all."

"Really now," Amadeus raised in eyebrow at that. "And who exactly are you supposed to be then?"

"Ah. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Asphaestus, and I am a member of the Exalted High Order."

Amadeus, in that moment had to control himself from letting his eyes go wide. _This isn't good._

"Yes. You have garnered quite the attention, little Demon." Asphaestus merely grinned further, the shadow cast on his face by the fedora deepening. "Come now, no rude response? I expected better from you?"

The barkeep glanced between the two, sensing the growing tension, before speaking authoritatively. "Oi! There will be no fighting in my bar, so either knock it off or take it outside somewhere elsewhere."

Asphaestus turned his head sharply to the barkeep. "Oh of course, allow me to take this business with my associate outside, would you. Wouldn't want to dirty this _fine_ establishment while you're still alive, right." The tone was sarcastic.

Amadeus interjected in disappointment before the bartender could respond, standing up from the piano swiftly.

"I came here to enjoy a simple night to myself, yet you came to ruin it."

"You ruined it by existing, Mr Amadeus. Perhaps by being the cowardly demon you are and hiding has prolonged your suffering, yes? Still, as much as I revel in your suffering, even though filth such as yourself doesn't deserve to exist, I am required to at least grant you a small mercy and put you under like the dog you are. Your very existence is a sacrilegious abomination, blasphemying all that He Who Commands Heaven and Earth Above has strived to create."Asphaestus stood up and dusted himself off.

Amadeus' eyes narrowed. "I am so fed up with all this holy bullshit that both sides preach. Can't you take a hint and _fuck off_. I have to finish my contract with Lucifer. You and your Holy Order make that quite difficult to accomplish."

"Of course, your contractor. Lucifer himself. You are a powerful and dangerous asset of his, aren't you. However, you're also a wildcard. One that has become enough of a nuisance. So do me a favour." A white pike, elegant in its design, began to materialise into Aspheastus' hands as his grin became more maniac. "Stand still while I gut you, will you."

BANG!

Asphaestus' body fell to the ground, a massive bleeding hole in his head.

The barkeep didn't even see Amadeus pull the gun, or even know he had one. But then he saw the darkness. Like flames, dark, sharp shadows danced off of Amadeus' gun hand as he held the still smoking Desert Eagle. After a few seconds, the shadows disappeared and Amadeus was left holding a gun.

Without hesitation, the barkeep ducked behind the bar, trying to grab his shotgun.

"What the fuck you psycho!"

Amadeus turned his head in the direction of the barkeep. A small smile played on his face as he spoke chillingly.

"I suggest you run home and forget about this incident. The real fun is about to begin."

The barkeep resurfaced with a Toz-134 aimed straight at Amadeus. However, before he could do anything, the pike Asphaestus previously held was sent flying straight into Amadeus, sending him flying back into the piano with enough force to tip it over. A resonating loud boom coupled with all of the strings being struck inside was the ghastly sound that left the barkeep's ears ringing. Then, Asphaestus stood up, hand clutching his bleeding face.

"You fucking cocksucker! I will enjoy killing you!"

Amadeus jumped up, glaring daggers at his opponent.

"For an Angel, you sure don't live up to your reputation of being divine and pure of heart. I'm disappointed."

At this the barkeep was confused and terrified. As such, he responded the only way he could at the sight of the two monsters of men before him that were destroying his establishment.

"GET YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" Those were his last words as Amadeus fired a single round without looking into the man's head, exploding his skull and subsequent brain-matter all over the back-wall and neatly stacked vintage bottles of alcohol, several of which exploded at the pure velocity of the .50AE round penetrating through and out of his skull. Asphaestus used this moment, however, to charge forth while Amadeus' gun was pointed away. Amadeus barely had time to roll away as a second materialised halberd came crashing down where he just was, the splintered hard-wood floor exploding. Without missing a stride, the halberd suddenly swung out sideways to decapitate Amadeus. Amadeus had no time to dodge this time, so he used his shadow-teleport to meld into the shadows and teleport behind the crazed angel. This time, however, he forsook his Desert Eagle in exchange for his other gun, the Adler a110 lever action.

Before Asphaestus could react again, Amadeus unloaded the first round into the angel's deformed face. The blast ripped his face apart, exposing much of the muscle and bone underneath, as well as sent him flying out the front door. Any blast on a normal human being would have completely eviscerated them, as this was an Unholy weapon, imbued with supernatural power. However, it was quite unconventional for a higher entity to use, holy or unholy alike, as firearms seemed more useless. _Whoever thought that was an idiot._ As far as Amadeus was concerned, a firearm was vastly superior. Shame he couldn't have some of the more modern arsenal mortals possessed.

As Asphaestus landed outside the bar with an audible _oof_, Amadeus stalked towards the door, the shotgun casually facing down in a two-handed carry position. As he ejected the first spent shell, Asphaestus began to stand up. _Oh no you don't_.

The shotgun was swiftly aimed in Asphaestus' general direction as Amadeus proceeded to unload every single shell into the angel. Aspheastus couldn't react as his body was slowly shredded by the gun, with him finally being literally blasted onto the paved road, blood strewn everywhere.

Asphaestus laid there, eyes glazed over (or whatever was left of them), unmoving.

"Disappointing indeed. You died way too pathetically, even for an angel. Still, credit where credit is due. The fight did end quickly."

Amadeus now stood directly over the angel, a neutral expression adorning his face as he looked at the angel's pulverised body. No emotion escaped, not even satisfaction. Amadeus abruptly turned on his heel and dematerialised his shotgun. He wasn't going to bother cleaning the mess.

However, before he could even take a step forward, Asphaestus croaked.

"That… was bloody… pathetic…"

Amadeus turned around to acknowledge the ruined angel. "While you fancy theatrics, I fancy efficiency."

"As… do I…"

Amadeus quirked a single eyebrow up in amusement.

"You... are foolish... to be… so… arrogant!"

Aspheastus outstretched his bloodied right hand to point directly at Amadeus.

"I… am barely, getting… started. So please… entertain me."

Amadeus didn't have time to ponder the angel's delusions as he heard the halberd whistling in the air behind him. Before he could react, however, the halberd found its mark and impaled through his left should and heart, its bloodied blade protruding a good metre from his chest. The impact was enough to send him crashing face-first onto the ground. And the pain was unbearable! Not the fact that it stabbed him and completely desecrated his heart and shoulder, but rather the fact the halberd was a Holy weapon. And him being an Unholy entity meant that the reaction was quite excruciating. It felt like a cross between a firestorm and an acid bath occurring simultaneously in every fibre of his shoulder, heart and chest.

As Amadeus let out a scream in agony, Asphaestus began to glow, before suddenly a bright white light erupted from his very soul. After the bright flash of light, a fully regenerated Asphaestus knelt there, his white suit flawlessly repaired, and a pair of white angelic wings outstretched on his back. A vibrant golden glow emanated from his body, before he stood up and addressed Amadeus, who was struggling to remove the embedded halberd.

"His Highness promoted me to the rank of Exalted so that I can effectively combat the scourge that is demons such as yourself. So, now that you are at my mercy, what will you do? Roll over and die? That seems suitable for your filth." A triumphant smirk adorned the angel's face.

"No, I have… something better. I am… going to watch…. as my pets…. **rip** you apart."

"Bold words. But they mean noth"- whatever the angel was going to say was cut off by the sound a monster roaring as the shadows suddenly came alive and charged the angel.

Asphaestus was thrown to the ground as the shadows formed a shape, then two, then three. Three shapes which were viciously snarling, fangs trying to rip into the angel that was desperately trying to roll out of the way and dodge them. They resembled hell-hounds, completely comprised of shadows which flickered like flames, save for the teeth. Those were very much solid. And they were very much trying to kill the trapped angel.

The onslaught was relentless as the hounds gnashed their teeth, clawing and biting at the angel.

"Tchh." The angel cursed his luck as he saw an opening to escape the hounds. He leapt into the air, his wings taking over as he hovered good ten metres overhead, out of range of the demon's hounds. Speaking of the demon, he had managed to remove the halberd in his shoulder, infected blood profusely leaking out.

Amadeus tossed the halberd aside with his good arm, a dangerous glint in his eyes. God, he hated how angels, and even demons such as himself, could recall their bound weapons like some Star Wars/Jedi bullshit.

Killing this angel was going to be tricky, especially since he was an Exalted. It meant his ranged weapons, aka guns, would have no real effect on the angel, save for body mutilation. Even then, the angel would regenerate without issue. That meant he had to engage in closer combat. However, with his hounds, he had the advantage of numbers. All he needed to do was the ground the angel and let the hounds finish him off. And he had the perfect tool.

Asphaestus was barely hovering for a few seconds to plan an attack when suddenly the air hissed and instinctively flew to the side. Which was fortunate for him as the spiked chain narrowly missed his head. At a quick glance, he could tell that like the guns Amadeus wielded, the spiked chain was an Unholy weapon, meaning it was deadly for him to be injured by. The chain retracted back into Amadeus' right hand, melding inside his sleeve. The spiked chain was a dark grey, fairly long and incredibly vicious looking. The head of the chain was a solid diamond-shaped block of cast-iron as long as his arm, and littered with barbed spikes that would rip its victim to shreds if embedded. As for the linked chain itself, the chains shared similar but smaller barbed spikes. How the demon hadn't shredded his own hand was beyond even him.

"Tch. Annoying." Asphaestus was annoyed at the demon's lack of respect and fear for him, a higher-order entity.

The chain flew out again, a little high this time, forcing Asphaestus to dodge and fly lower to the ground. The chain retracted and Amadeus advanced. The hell-hounds circled below until they were directly underneath the angel. Meanwhile, Amadeus threw the spiked chain again, aiming for his nemesis' head. Again, the angel swooped down to duck, but in his focus on the weapon, he overlooked the hell-hounds below, who were now in range of an attack. And attack they did. With synchronised coordination, all hounds leapt into the air. Asphaestus barely had time to register, and no room to move except directly up. Amadeus accounted for this, and threw his spiked chain forth one more time as the angel shot up, this time however wrapping around his left ankle.

Asphaestus cried out in pain as the unholy weapon's barbs embedded into his ankle and lower calf. Before he could attempt to free himself, however, Amadeus gave a mighty tug and pulled the deranged angel into the ground, and into the hounds. The hounds showed no mercy and began to tear into the angel, who screamed in agony as the unholy beings gorged themselves. In desperation, Asphaestus tried to recall his halberd, which came flying into his grasp. He swung to decapitate one hound, but the blade merely passed through the hound like the shadow it was.

Amadeus pulled the chain in, pulling the hapless angel with it. As the angel was caught off-balance, the onslaught of the hounds stopped. The angel was sent flying towards the demon whom, with his injured arm, tore the halberd from the angel's grasp, and in a single fluid motion, performed a perfect 360 degree sweep, majestically severing both wings on the angel. With the carried momentum of the pull, coupled with the demon's finesse, the angel was sent crashing into the pub's stone wall, leaving a sizeable dent of busted brick and mortar.

"You are a disgrace; an embarrassment. I would normally enjoy this, however…." The sound of distant sirens coming closer could be heard. "I think I will let you explain to your precious god how you failed. That honestly seems more entertaining to me. Wouldn't you agree?" Amadeus grinned savagely, ignoring the pain welling from his injury. The spiked chain dematerialised, and the hounds began to fade into the smoky shadows extending from the demon's hands.

Asphaestus gritted his teeth as the demon sank into the shadows, literally, and teleported to god knows where. He laid there in a broken, crumpled heap, his body shooting with excruciating agony due to so many unholy injuries. What hurt most, however, was his pride. He had failed to kill the demon, again. But all was not lost. The demon would suffer more from his injuries. After all, a holy injury on an unholy being such as that demon wouldn't be able to heal. He grinned to himself slowly. _At least that bastard will suffer. _BLEGHH! He coughed up a copious amount of blood, blackened with unholy elements and poisoning. His stumps seared with pain. But he would heal eventually and regenerate. At least holy beings could heal and regenerate. But now, he had to leave before these pesky mortals arrived, if the closing sirens were any indication.

_I will finish you, Amadeus._ "I WILL FUCKING FINISH YOU AMADEUUUUUUUUS!"

* * *

Amadeus teleported into the apartment he had been hiding in by merging out of the shadows, which were copious due to all the lights being off. Clutching his still bleeding wound, he walked into the bathroom, flicking on the light as he entered. Without bothering to remove his bloodstained jacket, he turned the water on in the shower.

As the water began to warm up, he pulled his jacket off, followed by his black dress shirt, revealing a toned torso and abdomen stained with blood. He grunted in pain as he looked in the mirror at the injury. It was quite extensive, the surrounding flesh was ripped apart, and a jagged whole that was swollen shut was right where his heart should have been. Such an injury would have been fatal to a mortal, but he didn't exactly fit that criteria anymore. In reality, he was a literal demon. Just not the conventional type that many mortals would expect. But then again, neither was the angel Asphaestus. Regardless, such an injury wouldn't affect him, even if it was somewhat painful. However, his wound, which was still bleeding profusely, was caused by the halberd, which was a Holy weapon. That would pose a problem.

He grimaced as he stepped into the shower, completely devoid of clothes, feeling the hot water cascade onto his body, filter into his injury, and rinse the blood away, only to be replaced by more of the iron-scented fluid.

He let the water continue to rinse his body for a good ten minutes, the steam fogging the paned glass in the stall, before he shut the water off and stepped out.

Before the wound could continue to leak blood any further, he grabbed a towel and tried to wrap it around his wound, acting as a crude tourniquet, until he could find a more permanent solution. Being a demon, he lacked an angels extensive regeneration abilities, so his wound would take a long time to naturally heal on its own. And judging by the extensive size and trauma his injury had done, it could be a few good months before it healed fully. That… was a problem in his opinion.

He would need a plan to deal with this setback, a plan to deal with Asphaestus for he was positive the bastard would be hungry for revenge, even if he was reckless and headstrong fool. An angel, especially an Exalted one, was not to be taken lightly.

As he proceeded to dry himself off with a spare towel, he began reminiscing about the absurdity of angels and demons. Even after so many years of contractual servitude, he still had to remind himself that it was all very real.

Angels. The polar opposite of demons. While demons were opportunists and immortal, bound by a contract to Lucifer, angels were bound to Father. Vindictive and cruel, they were not to be underestimated. But then again, so were demons. In reality, angels and demons were both vicious, the bi-products of a supernatural war that even he sometimes struggled to comprehend. In his opinion, it made little sense, but he was merely a servant of Lucifer.

Oddly enough, Angels were not immortal, instead granted absurd regenerative abilities. Therefore, death was permanent. The only problem was, with their enhanced regenerative abilities, death was easily stalled. Therefore, in a roundabout way, they were immortal. As a demon, he was immortal, and while he could regenerate from superficial or mortal injuries, anything holy was a bane to his existence and difficult to recover from. What made holy injuries so deadly was it could corrupt and eventually destroy his soul, which was currently held by Lucifer. And that there was very little he could do about it. But that was only if he had a holy infection.

The one thing that intrigued him was the apparent lack of guns between supernatural entities. From his experience, both as a mortal and as a demon, they were major game changers, especially if imbued with unholy elements.

He remembered his initial frustration at the lack of guns he could wield. Apparently, guns were not supernatural beings preferred weapons, who instead preferred traditional melee combat with bladed weapons. It took him a while to acquire and 'configure' for a better the few guns he could materialise. A Desert Eagle, a 500. S&W Magnum and his Adler a110 lever-action shotgun. For some reason, other weapons, especially automatic weapons, could not be incorporated, alongside anything that used electricity. As a result of his gun limitations, he felt out of control and decided to spend the next few decades honing skills with a variety of bladed weapons, his preferred being the Japanese Katana and the Hussar's Officers Sabre, both due to their light weight and swift ease of use; Bola, Spiked Chain and other medieval weapons that kept dematerialised for when he needed them. Though, they were the only weapons he used mentioned above. He also remembered the training being painstaking, but it paid off in the end.

His reminiscing was cut short as he felt his injury again. Pulling the towel off, he was rewarded by the site of early holy infection.

"…."

The bleeding had stopped, but the hole was red and inflamed. Even now, he could feel the holy infection burning his wound. And unfortunately, he lacked the means currently to deal with and remove the infection.

"Fuck…"

Amadeus steeled his resolve, and proceeded to place his clothes back on, ignoring the blood stains and obvious holes.

* * *

After getting changed, Amadeus slowly walked to where his bedroom was. He had an idea to gain extra time to resolve his injury as well as remain under the radar. While he wouldn't be able to treat the injury and expunge the holy infection, he would be able to buy time without the infection worsening. And the answer lie within the DMMORPG Yggdrasil. God, he couldn't believe how ridiculous the idea was. According to an overly enthusiastic demon compatriot, who constantly boasted about how Yggdrasil literally saved his life and allowed him to hide from several angels until he could formulate a plan to successfully get the drop on them, it would allow him to remain undetected and halt any injury, no matter how grave. Amongst other things.

He shook his head at the thought of what he was about to do to.

From his understanding, DMMORPG's such as Yggdrasil which were an advanced virtual reality were operated by hooking up to neural interface of sorts. While basic, it allowed a higher entity such as himself, a demon, to literally enter the game physically. Of course, he was limited by what the game's programming enabled, but it was fairly close to reality. The advantage was, supposedly, that when he entered the game, his actual body was placed in limbo, acting as if in a stasis, while his soul was free to function without restraint. As such, all injuries would cease to progress, holy or not, or so he hoped. This would grant him the necessary time to consider options and solutions to heal his injury. This was crucial since a holy infection would prove lethal eventually without correct treatment. His body could die, which while not to problematic as he could reincarnate, no matter how painful that ordeal was, since his soul technically was sold to Lucifer, a holy infection would transmit to his soul eventually and begin to tear it apart. Without a soul, he would not be able to reincarnate or live. Hopefully, Yggdrasil would help halt this process until he could consider a means to resolve it.

"Tchh. Just my luck."

Another upside to entering Yggdrasil was that while his body was in limbo, he could avoid detection by other higher entities such as angels, except his contractor Lucifer. Unless one of them entered Yggdrasil.

Sighing, he grabbed the headset helmet to connect with Yggdrasil. He didn't have to put it on, he only needed focus while holding his hand on the nodes so he could enter. There wouldn't even be a body left in the real-world so tracing was impossible. And since the platform was online and he was entering as an in-game entity similar to an NPC, he would technically be part of the system to an extent, so the headset could be turned off and it wouldn't forcefully disconnect him. The only way to be forcefully disconnected would be if the servers themselves permanently shut down. _Not that that is going to happen when the developers are making fistfuls of dollars. Or yen. Or whatever nationality they are._

The headset powered on. He placed his hand on the nodes. He could feel his body warm, and a faint blue light began to emit from the headset as he began to disappear from the real world and enter the virtual world of Yggdrasil.

_I hope this works. _And then he was gone.


	3. Yggdrasil, land of brave, home of PKer's

**Disclaimer at start of first Chapter. Again, though, I do NOT own any of the rights Overlord and its respective content. **

**Suggested age rating: T**

\- Violence

\- Some strong language

* * *

**Yggdrasil, land of the brave, home of the PKer's**

Upon 'loading' in to the game Yggdrasil, Amadeus was presented with a virtual control panel before him. In fucking Japanese.

_Jesus Christ! Japanese ain't my native language. Oh, for fuck's sake, I can barely remember this language. I am really wishing I finished my tutoring under Jason when he was still alive. Didn't believe I'd need it now. Let's see if I can remember this._

Amadeus began to slowly read the language he had forgotten. He was in the USA when he logged on, so he didn't need to use Japanese until now. Guess now though he sort of was in Japan, if only virtually.

**Hello and Welcome to Yggdrasil new player!**

**You have taken the first steps towards a larger world and we welcome you to enjoy it to your heart's content.**

**Please read the Terms and Conditions of playing.**

_Yeah…. Skip that._

**Please click Next to create an online account.**

**Name:**

_Hmm. Should I go for something ridiculous? Nah, I'll only get confused. I'll stick with my name._

Sygil Amadeus.

**Date of Birth:**

_Fuck I'd tell you that. 01-08-2100. Next question._

**Place of origin:**

_Resident of Earth._ He though sarcastically. _Seriously, the game is only ported for Japan from what I remember. Oh fine. Australia. Hopefully I won't receive hate from a bunch of Japs because I'm a foreigner._

**Email Address:**

_Not at all. Next question._ A loud electronic sound resonated and the box glowed red.

_Fine. _

Surprisingly it worked. _Wow. Sass works every now and then._

**Gender:**

_Other. No. Female. No. Furry. No- wait what the fuck?! THAT'S A THING! AYE AYE AYE!. Only the Japanese._ Sygil shook his head. _Male! Yes!_

**Please explain your choice of Gender:**

Sygil's left eye twitched. _No._

**Thank you for creating an account.**

**Please click Next to continue to Character profile creation.**

Sygil pressed next.

**Welcome to Character Profile Creation, where you can choose from over 1200 different races and classes and level them up. No two players will ever truly be the same. Please click Next to continue.**

Sygil pressed next again.

**Thank you for creating your character. Your stats will be available upon entering the game. Enjoy! – The Yggdrasil Development Team**

_Wait what the fuck?_ It was too late. The menu closed and the world suddenly began to materialise around him.

_I don't get to create a character or what? This is false advertising!_

He suddenly felt it. A change in atmosphere and setting and a change in himself. As if parts of his body were chained. That, and he could hear the sounds of a forest around him.

_Pretty immersive for a game._

A heads up display suddenly flashed before him.

**Hello Sygil Amadeus. Welcome to the land of Yggdrasil. A land where you can forge your own path and destiny. It is up to you to move forward and advance. Don't leave any rock unturned for the mysteries of this world can be found everywhere.**

**Your profile stats are available for viewing. Have fun!**

_Read this another time_, he thought as he closed the menu. He was here to be granted an opportunity to contemplate his real-life injuries. He can entertain himself later. He was still peeved about not being able to choose his own character though.

He could move normally like in real world, including flexing his fingers, opening his mouth. From what he could also tell, he looked identical to how he entered in real life, including the torn hole in his suit and arm surrounded by dried blood. At least his hair has fine from what he felt, though he barely had time be happy as a couple strands fell in his face. He went to blow them out of his face but suddenly found he could not.

_Interesting. It appears the in-game limitations are applied to me._

He took a tentative step forward. Nothing happened out of the ordinary. He proceeded to summon his Sabre through Shadow-manipulation. It formed in his extended right palm, its blade shining under the virtual sun.

He took a swing in anticipation. _Now I need to test it out on some enemies_ he internally chuckled. He glanced at his left shoulder, expecting pain to be shooting out. Nothing was felt. He could feel himself slowly grin. His injury was in limbo, allowing him contemplate a solution.

He slowly looked around him to finally take in his surroundings.

He was in a small forest clearing with trees surrounding him everywhere. In front of him was a crude dirt path that that went through the clearing from left to right. Two small openings in the forest where the road lay were visible.

Shrugging, he dematerialised the Sabre and began to follow the path to his left. In the distance he could see a town. Maybe he could use that to get some bearings, interact with other players and find a place to stay so he could prioritise his real-life issues. This was only temporary after all. So without further adieu he set off to the town.

_So what can cleanse a holy wound? I know I have to clean it regularly every-time in the real world. But it won't remove the infection. Perhaps if I acquire Asphaestus' Holy halberd I can find a way to reverse it? Perhaps by destroying the halberd with an unholy weapon? No, it will probably be more complex than that. I probably need to convince or kill Asphaestus to remove the holy infection. Fat chance of either. Guess it leaves destroying or manipulating his halberd or killing him. Or maybe another way? Unholy cures? Uggh. I have literally no idea what I need to do. Why can't things have simple solutions._

He stopped in front of the town entrance, a sign next to the road that stated in bold black letters **Mythylhymn. **_Strange name_ he thought. It looked straight out of a fantasy. A central road that passed between an array of shops that were immaculately decorated, bustling with NPC traders, villagers and several players, judging by the ludicrous armour and gear and the faint hovering red name box above. The buildings all had a European gothic style. To the far right in what he assumed was the centre of town was a large castle/fort. It was well designed, made of a mix of gold and marble, and ascending far into the heavens. _Probably impractical in the real world, but it does looks nice._

As he entered the town he came to appreciate the size. _This is a god-damned city! Urgh. And I just wanted to quickly find a place to stay and get information. Who knows. Maybe the locals will know more about healing holy infections._ He chuckled in amusement. Who knows.

_Actually, that might be perfect! Leave it to a bloody fantasy game to provide solutions. If I asked some players knowledgeable on holy weaponry, they should provide some useful insight. I can translate that information into something for use in the real world. Worth a shot._ Sygil let a small smile creep onto his face. He just needed to find some players that would be useful for some information.

The first place, obviously, was an inn/pub or something similar. Though, since this was technically a game, such places were likely to be purely aesthetic rather than functional. Still, wouldn't hurt to try. Only problem was he couldn't see one nearby.

Plan B. Find a library or- **"Hey, watch where you're going!"** Apparently, bump mechanics worked as someone had bumped into him. And blamed him.

Sygil narrowed his eyes in return, scrutinising the offender. He, he assumed it was a he by the build and voice, was dressed in bulky white armour straight from a Japanese fantasy. Though, since this was a Japanese game it hardly came as a surprise. No face was visible, and the player was a giant, standing at what he assumed to be nearly 7 feet tall. A massive broadsword with intricate designs and a razor sharp double edge was strapped across his back. He looked like a knight, though Sygil sort of doubted that judging by the condescending, arrogant and angry tone. "My eyesight is fine. Yours isn't, as YOU walked into me."

The knight seemed to choke on his next words indignantly. Nobody dared to talk to him with such disrespect. He was a rank Level 78 Human Warrior. He was Arche Doukus (many re-christianed him as Arche Doofus though), one of the greatest warriors ever in Yggdrasil. No-one ever started anything with him lest they suffer the consequences. The suited player's next words broke him out of his stupor though.

"Now can you kindly step aside." It was more of a demand than anything as he didn't want to waste time on some over-bloated egotistical and arrogant fool. Perhaps it was foolish to antagonise the knight, but he had little patience for fools, especially those that attempted to instigate trouble with him. However, for every action, there is an equal yet opposite reaction, though the following reaction was hardly equal. As evidenced by the sword swinging down to cleave him in half. He jumped backwards out of the way, avoiding a near death? He wasn't sure if he could technically _die_ die in a video game.

Dirt sprayed from the impact of the sword, and the loud crash reverberated around, capturing the attention of everyone nearby, whether players or NPCs alike.

"What low-level grunt like you has the audacity to instigate a fight with me, the great Arche Doukus!" The giant knight bellowed with pompous arrogance.

Sygil nearly choked on his words and had to stifle a half-amused snort as he retorted. "You're the one that started a fight as evidenced by you swinging your oversized letter-opener." The Knight growled. It seems a fight was inevitable at this stage. Might as well finish it. While he was going to be cautious with his opponent, he wanted to test out his skills. After all, it was just simply a game. First step, taunt your opponent so they lose focus. An innocent smile suddenly struck his face. "Pretty big letter-opener at that. You compensating for something?" That was the final straw.

Arche charged Amadeus with surprising agility, bringing the sword to bear on his neck. Even he would admit he was surprised at the speed at which the knight crossed the distance. Which taught him a valuable lesson and reminder. Never underestimate an opponent.

While the blow failed to truly injure him, it sent him flying back into some the NPCs who toppled over like bowling pins. Before he could register anything the knight was upon him, the sword coming down on him again. At least this time, however, Sygil was prepared, though barely. Summoning his Sabre purely by instinct, which surprisingly worked, he brought the blade up with his uninjured arm to deflect the blow.

A resonating clash of steel was heard, alongside a loud gasp by the knight.

"WHAT BULLSHIT SORCERY IS THIS! No mere scrub should be able to possess a weapon that can deflect the Sword of Magnimus Elficient, let alone resist it!" Now that Sygil thought about, he couldn't feel any weight or pressure from the swords. The sight was amusing though, a tiny man with a tiny sword stalemating a bulky knight with a big sword. Suddenly though, he could tell the Knight was scrutinising him, a dangerous tone in his voice. "Wait a minute, are you a smurf? Or a fucking hacker!"

A small orange, semi-transparent, pop-up box appeared next to Arche, though Sygil could not read it.

The Knight announced loudly, "It says you are of the Heteromorph Race! That explains how you acquired such a powerful item, by looting the righteous you filth. How the hell did you sneak into this town!"

The unbridled hatred, and he dare say racism, from the knight drew attention of all nearby players, oddly enough who were all human, who started murmuring darkly and producing an array of fantasy weapons and mythical items, magical and warrior based alike.

Arche removed his sword and pointed it accusingly at him.

"As the greatest warrior of humankind, I shall expunge your filth from this world. Permanently!"

_You have got to be kidding me right now._

Sygil quickly calculated how many opponents faced him. He was currently surrounded and vastly outnumbered. While it was tempting to unleash fully on everyone, he did not currently know the abilities of everyone, and if they were as strong as the knight, he would likely lose. And therefore die in game. Even though he doubted he would literally die, considering he had broken the laws of physics and entered a virtual reality with his actual soul, per se, he did not want to test that theory.

Out of pure habit, he used the shadows to meld away and teleport to just outside of the crowd by the town entrance, an act he was presently surprised to realise still worked in the game, much to the surprise and shock of the crowd. That momentary confusion was just that, however, and Arche turned to face Amadeus, throwing his sword with intent to cleave his skull or pin him. Sygil had to admit he was surprised that the sword was thrown so fast and with such precision as rolled out of the way, the sword embedding deeply into the tree where he was mere microseconds prior. It was clear a head-on confrontation with this knight wouldn't work. So he ran. Where to, he had no idea, but he needed to escape the angry mob.

As he ran, he could hear a range of insults being thrown his way.

"Filthy Heteromorph!" "Thief!" "Monster" "Damned undead!" "I want your babies!" "Hetermorph scum!"

From what he could gather, as he hurdled and weaved across bushes, trees and fallen logs in the forest, was that he was termed a 'Hetermorph', which was something apparently vulgar to these players, who were trying to attack him for just existing apparently.

An arrow whizzed by his head, waking him from his thoughts. Just in time as he came to a cliff. He dodged to the left to avoid an incoming volley of enchanted arrows which exploded when they hit the ground, leaving small craters behind.

_Well shit, that's not encouraging._

He vaulted over a log, turning to glance over his shoulder as he did. There were only 8 other pursuers, the rest must have given up on the chase or were lagging behind. That, he could manage. However, that thought was crushed when the log he was using as cover suddenly split open, the Sword of Magnimus Elficient resting mere inches from his face.

_God dammit, this son of a bitch is fast despite his size._ He materialised his sabre and quickly brought it to bear on top of the Arche's sword, immobilising his gigantic weapon temporarily as he remembered from earlier. He was exposed currently, but fast as lightning, he brought his free hand to bear on Arche, aiming his hand in a pistol grip at the Knight's head as he summoned his Desert Eagle, ready to put a steaming hot .50 calibre round into the prick's (virtual) brain.

However, nothing was summoned. Instead, he could feel it in his body, as if a circuit had fried. As a result, he was left looking like both a fool and unarmed, though the fast reactions of Arche made the former notion less noticeable, as the Knights massive, gauntlet encompassed hand gripped his exposed arm. Before Sygil could react, he was tugged forwards and thrown behind the knight, dropping his sabre in the process.

_Fuck! I can't summon my gun!_ He had to roll out of the way as the sword crashed down. _For Christ's sake this guy is way too fast for his own good._ And that thought alone, provided the necessary spark of inspiration for Sygil to create a plan to counter his opponent.

_I have to use his speed against him. That cliff should do nicely. Maybe I can lure him and force him off the edge._ As he strategized a plan, he dodged and weaved the lightning sword strikes.

_First thing though, actually get to the cliff._ Said plan was easier said than done, however, with the relentless barrage of sword strikes. Each strike was flashy and acrobatic, but still unable to land a hit on Sygil. Arche must have realised this as he suddenly halted his attack.

"**Greater Item Boost, Greater Agility, Greater – "**Amadeus paid Arche no heed as he rolled under the knight, dashing to his fallen sabre and making a beeline for the trees and cliff.

As he ran, he began to formulate an in-depth plan to quickly remove this nuisance. He just hoped he could summon his spiked chain as it would be crucial.

From memory, there were two trees which led to an opening on the cliff. Considering the knight favoured blindly charging in and overwhelming him, he should be able to force the knight to pass in between the two trees and directly to the cliff's edge. Since the knight travelled too fast, he shouldn't be able to observe the spiked chain acting as a tripwire. Once the knight tripped through, either the trees would rip off and he could use the chain to quickly bind the knight, using the carried momentum and additional weight (if applied in a game) to carry him off the edge of the cliff. Or, allow him to summon his hounds to kill the crazy bastard (or lower his HP significantly). He just needed to wrap the knight in his chains.

To his relief as he ran, he summoned his spiked chain, throwing it around the tree to his left as he ran to the one on his right, allowing the excess chain to rest on the ground out of immediate sight, before heading towards the edge of the cliff, the handle gripped tightly in his gloved hand as he stood in the open, waiting for the knight to come. As he waited, he extended his sabre, the tip facing the ground as a small smile crept onto his features. His wait was rewarded as the knight came crashing through the foliage, glitching through some of the shrubs in his rampage as he charged towards Amadeus, screaming a mighty war cry. Sygil's smile only widened further, showing his teeth.

The knight, oblivious to the trap, charged towards Amadeus and just as he was about to cross the makeshift tripwire, he made his move.

In one swift motion, Sygil harshly tugged on the spiked chain, the force of which raised the chain to mid-thigh height and tore the two trees clean off. Arche had no chance to react, too blinded by his desire to win. As a result, he was swiftly entangled in the mix of trees and chain, with his momentum from his enhancement boosts carrying him forward, right into the waiting blade of the sabre.

Sygil smirked in the victory that was assuredly his now as his sabre began to skewer the head of the knight, before rapidly twisting his arm and subsequently the blade in a move aimed to decapitate the knight, before pushing the headless corpse of the cliff with the assisted momentum of the forward charge. Of course, the limitations of the game came through and the blade did not decapitate Arche, but he was, regardless, successful of disposing of the knight …. Hopefully. The whole action took no more than two seconds.

As the body flew of the cliff at god-speed, Sygil retracted the spiked chain and examined his blade.

"Huh, no blood." Yggdrasil functioned as a game apparently after all, including a range of limitations. Speaking of which, he dematerialised his spiked chain and tried to summon his Desert Eagle. And once again, he was left empty handed. He felt the same feeling, as if a circuit had shorted within himself.

_Well shit._ He attempted to summon his other guns, but was met with the same result. _Maybe I can summon more medieval or simple things like my spiked chain and sabre. Can I still summon my hounds and do complete shadow manipulation?_

Wanting to test that theory out, he summoned his shadow hounds. He felt relief wash over him as the black flames licked over his gloved hand, shadows extending forth to produce a single hound. The black, flame-like shadows danced over the main body of the hound, its snarling visage taking form.

"I think he went this way!" A distant voice captured the hounds attention, which snapped its head in the direction of the voice. Sygil glanced in the same direction, before a predatory smile formed.

_Since it's a game, everything is designed to be overpowered and flashy. However, from this brief battle, I think I can deduce that deception, fast and hard attacks are more than sufficient to win against inexperienced gamers. If I am correct, that knight was more skilled or higher-levelled than the rest of these players._

The smile widened at that thought. He extended his other hand, and flame-like shadows extended to form two more hounds. The words he uttered next would cement the fate of the hunting party that was pursuing him.

"Find them… and kill them." The hounds wasted no time, shooting off into the forest at an incomprehensible speed. If one were to pay attention, they would see the in-game shadows themselves wavering as the hounds went by.

Once the hounds had a head start, he slowly began to walk into the forest, this time much more calmly and with a sense of purpose. He had entered Yggdrasil, assuming that he merely needed to hide in it and maybe use it for potential answers. However, these answers would take more time to acquire due to the in-game feudalism between players. Therefore, he would need to play the game to get the information he wanted. Not that he minded, after all, he could wait. He was, after all, very patient. Therefore, his first step was to gain information of the game itself and mechanics. Next, locations and in-game information about holy weaponry. This was his gamble, after all.

* * *

The sound of distant clashing caught his attention. _Ah. The players have met my pets. Let's see how they fare._

Said players were being decimated by the shadow hounds. They attacked so fast, knocking significant chunks of HP off their stats, before using the shadows to vanish, literally, only to reappear from behind.

Of the eight players, save for Arche, dedicated enough to pursue the lone heteromorphy player that wandered into Mythylhymn, only five remained. Two level 20 players were instantly killed and forced to respawn back at the inn in Mythylhymn, now down a rank or more. A level 30 player was attacked thrice by each hound and suffered the same fate.

However, as far as Grendel was concerned, those players were weak noobs. He himself was a level 48 player, and four remaining players were at least level 40 also. They were all part of the same guild, The Human Alliance, a clan dedicated to the eternal decimation of heteromorph players.

He agreed with many of the clans ideals, zealously believing that anyone that chose races other than human or holy-based was in reality a 'race-traitor'. While such in-game extremism would have been shocking, THA clan, often referred to as The Klan, had specific entry requirements. These were; you must belong to either human or holy-based races. You must dedicate your play-time to Klan duties and responsibilities such as purging/PKing non-human races and expunging such 'abominations'. And above all, you must be strong, or at least desire strength. As such, weak players who refused to better themselves were discarded and often PK-ed to extremes to discourage playing, kicked, with some attempts, however unsuccessful, to ban the players and account indefinitely. However, the developers and administrators often ignored such demands.

Grendel and the other Klan members attempted to get closer to watch each-others backs.

"Form a line. It should allow us to hit these beasts! Then we can finish off that Heteromorph player!"

As much as he would have feared the player escaping, he knew that Arche, while not a clan member, would have been able to severely weaken or even defeat the player. He just wished these annoying NPCs would leave his team alone. He had never seen these beasts before, and from what he was aware, the developers had stopped updating over a year ago, beginning working on a rumoured Yggdrasil 2. A scream of rage to his left revealed another player losing the fight to the hounds, with several items dropping beside the body, with vanished a moment later, indicating another respawning and loss of XP.

The hounds were relentless. And the players were losing. Another player called out in frustration. "These fuckers are difficult. My sword goes through them. We need to use magic. Try **Light of Atonement**!"

"On it!" shouted the resident magic caster, Annalise.

A circle containing hieroglyphics materialised before her avatar's extended hand as she cast the holy spell. A ball of pure white light extended from the hieroglyph, before exploding, bathing the area in a bright white light.

**Light of Atonement** was a 5th tier spell that targeted only mindless, beast-like NPC's with a negative karma. It was an effective spell to remove dangerous, animalistic NPCs, especially non-interactive ones. However, it was only effective against essentially animals and not against real players or interactive NPCs. While usable by players of rank 40 and above, it was often not used, as it had a considerable drawback. The player caster was left completely vulnerable for a whole 180 seconds with no further ability to use magic. Furthermore, it was a highly racially-exclusive spell for the human-race with magic and holy boosts and levels. Ultimately, it was redundant for most other players, especially those of higher skill.

However, Annalise and Grendel were confident that it would work quite well. Except it didn't.

Once the flash of light died out, the hounds struck again, this time targeting Annalise with vicious intent. She was next to vanish, a scream of frustration before that too also vanished.

"Argh! What the fuck man! The fuck are these things! I can't hit them!" Screamed another Klan member in frustration. There were only three players left now.

"We need to call this hunt off! We aren't levelled high enough!" Grendel snarled at the coward who suggested that. "We will be when we beat these abominations! Don't you see. If we beat these, we will level up due to their difficulty. We are probably the first players to encounter these beasts! So shut up and keep fighting!"

If Yggdrasil were enhanced enough, Grendel would have seen a completely stunned look on the face of the other player who was looking at him as if he grew a second head.

The player, Axel, dodged out of the way of the hound, but took a hit from another one, as he began to retort. "Keep fighting?! We aren't even able to defend ourselves, let alone fight! I'm honestly not in the mood to derank!"

Grendel summoned a Fifth Tier item, a crystal ball. "Just cover me while I summon an Archangel! This holy thing should win against these beasts."

He never got the chance as the hounds materialised around him, pouncing on him. His screams reverberated around the forest, though unfortunately for Sygil as he entered the scene, they were not of agony, but rather infuriation of having lost XP. Only two players remained now, the reluctant Axel, and another spell caster who had only just reached rank 40.

"It's you! The heteromorph!" The spell caster exclaimed. Sygil stared, nonplussed, at the spell-caster, before drawling. "So I have been told. Honestly, while it would be fun for me to let loose or let my hounds finish you and call it a day, I have a couple questions which I was hoping you would enlighten me with answers for."

Axel suddenly realised that the hounds had ceased attacking and were standing idle, low snarls and growls emanating from them. However, while idle, they were positioned to the sides and rear of the two players, while the heteromorph player stood in front of him on top of a small rock ledge, as if cementing superiority over them like a regal leader over their subjects, and not necessarily in a nice way.

_If this were real-life I probably would have been intimidated_, thought Axel. While he was a member of the Klan, he was not as strict in his personal beliefs and found the guild to honestly be more of a hardcore roleplaying guild than necessarily a prejudiced one. However, it appeared the player before him would care little for that. And if he indeed controlled those hounds, then the battle was surely lost. So, wanting to avoid deranking and losing XP if possible, he cautiously answered.

"And what would they be?" The next words emitted from the player before him confused him, however.

"I am a little lost currently. I am sort of new to this game, and would greatly appreciate some guidance." Axel didn't buy it for a second, but before he could respond, the player continued by asking his questions. No. Demanding them. There was no mistaking the authoritative tone there.

"So. Do you mind explaining why you chose to attack me unprovoked." The other player, however, answered for him, albeit with a little hostility.

"Because you are a heteromorph player, and we are sworn to defend humanity against your kind!" Axel almost sweatdropped at the blatantly disrespectful, stereotypical, roleplaying answer to someone who clearly outclassed them.

The suited player turned to face the spell-caster instantly, eyes narrowed whilst intently scrutinising the offender.

"And who, pray tell, are you," he sneered contemptuously. Out of the corner of his eye, Axel could see the hounds were more focused on the offender also, as if they too were offended by what was said.

"Jeremiah."

Sygil tilted his head slightly and stared at Jeremiah for a second. At this stage, a show of dominance and lack of willingness to compromise was necessary to solidify his position. Without further hesitation, he snapped his left gloved, with his forefinger pointed directly at Jeremiah. Before the two guild-members could understand what was going on, two of the hounds pounced on him so fast, reduced his HP to zero, leaving nothing but a pile of items as the body dissipated away. While Sygil agreed it was probably an extreme reaction for a game, he wanted information fast and didn't want anyone trying to fuck him around.

Sygil slowly turned to face Axel, the only surviving member of his party.

"Let's make something perfectly clear. Only I ask the questions. You answer them. You will not speak out of line, or I will kill you. I am more than willingly to search for my answers the hard way, but this will save me time. If you answer completely and honestly, I will let you go about your day. However, if not…" The threat hung in the air. _This guy is more of a hardcore roleplayer than I am! Why do I end up being stuck with the obsessive ones._

Without waiting for Axel to respond, he began.

"So why did you attack me? What was your motive."

"You belong to the heteromorph race. You were in human player territory, and more specifically, near one of my guild's outposts. My guild isn't fond of heteromorphs. When Arche announced you were a heteromorph, we jumped on the opportunity to gain loot and rank up."

Sygil folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. " So you thought I was encroaching on your territory and wanted me off." There was a pregnant pause before he continued.

"Fair enough. So where am I exactly. I lack a map."

Axel was momentarily confused at the change in demeanour, before he broke himself out of his stupor with a sarcastic rhetorical answer. "We are in one of the nine realms, Midgard. We are just outside of one of the frontier towns before you land in heteromorph territory." Sygil merely nodded and accepted the information as if it were valuable, leaving Axel somewhat astounded.

"And where can I find information, or churches, or other holy entities and players. Or better yet, do you have information on religious or holy entities for this game."

The sudden barrage left him feeling even more confused. He was honestly half-expecting a massive spiel concerning the righteousness of his actions.

"I – uh – um- no?"

Sygil seemed to withdraw. "I see. Shame."

Axel started to relax ever so slightly. _Maybe he truly doesn't care about class prejudice._ Those thoughts were dashed with the next statement, which seemed hardened.

"So what is with the hatred for heteromorphs. I was willing to go unprovoked. Yet… Arche, yourself, and the others were eager to attack me and insult me. Care to explain?"

"Oh for – COME ON MAN! It's just a game man!"

The hounds closed in, snarling more aggressively at the hostility from Axel.

"Yes." Sygil responded despondently, his eyes cast down in a look of dispassion. "However," he continued, "I find petty prejudice to be rather , well, petty."

_Since when the fuck did Yggdrasil include such realistic facial animations for player avatars?_ Axel took a step backward.

Sygil jumped down, his knees bent slightly from the impact, until he stood and dusted himself off.

_And the developers never announced new beasts, let alone tameable ones. _

"To hate one group of individuals based purely on their class sounds pointless and a lot like racism. While I, personally, could care less about racism, I do find the disregard of one's personality and abilities in lieu of their appearance, race, or in this case, class, quite stupid frankly. I don't hate humanity based on its appearance. I find humanity detestable based on its actions."

"For fuck's sake, it's a game! Heteromorphs are inherently evil and gain XP through more negative actions. What does that say of the individual. I too personally don't agree with racism, but players that choose a heteromorph race instead of their born race when a clear choice is presented are obviously not stable!"

That made Sygil laugh, a slow, deep, contorted and convoluted laugh. "Ha, ha, ha! You are one of the most fucking stupid people I have ever encountered. You were just preaching it is a game, and now you are trying to justify prejudice with some philosophical bullshit, just to convince yourself that you are right! At the end of the day, every player in this game is just a human sitting behind a VR headset. They are not the heroes, nor the villains they portray themselves to be. However, that does not excuse their arrogance and foolishness for attempting to deceive themselves into believing they are who they portray themselves to be." A predatory grin found its way onto Sygil's face.

"Isn't that calling the kettle black though? For all of your preaching of us being human at the end of the day, you are still roleplaying pretty fucking damn hardcore!"

"I could say the same thing about you. At least I know who I truly am. What about you? Do you know who you truly are?"

If facial features could be carried onto avatars, Axel's would have been of dumbfound shock.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean! I just wanted to enjoy a game! That means I will being fighting my inherent racial enemy! Heteromorphs! Speaking of which, just get rid of that human form you shapeshfting bastard. At least I can accept how unreasonable you are when I have a face to match that is appropriate," spat Axel, all pretense of rank maintenance gone. _Honestly, this guy is fucking nuts!_

Sygil snorted, taking another step forward. "You are a bloody hypocrite. You preach a simple mentality of just 'enjoying a game', a live-and-let-live ideal if I may, yet on the other hand you practice prejudice against other human players for choosing an avatar with aesthetic designs that are not human."

"Oh, shut the fuck-up you self-righteous cunt! You're the hypocrite here, not me! I bet you sit in your mamma's basement wanking it to your father you fat fuck!" Axel was growing agitated as he took a defensive stance.

"Suit yourself in your beliefs," calmly retorted Sygil, un-phased by the insults. "So. Unless you have anything else to add or provide, I believe we are done."

Axel was bothered by the realistic expressions on the player before him. Yggdrasil graphics were good, but not _that_ good yet.

"No. We aren't. I bet you are a fucking cheater, aren't you ya cheap prick!"

_Always a last jab_, mentally hissed Sygil.

In flash, Sygil had drawn his sabre and brought it into the bottom of the player's jaw, the blade protruding from his head.

Axel had no time to react as he saw a blur, and then his screen was temporarily black, before he spawned empty-handed back at the inn checkpoint in another location far, far away. "FUCK!"

Sygil stared at the dropped items, one of which was a basic map, some floating and glowing greenish-yellow orbs which he was unaware of as XP points, some potions and an intricate bastard-sword. As he bent down to pick up the map, he observed how it crumpled like real paper.

_This VR technology is weird. It feels like real paper. Wait! Why can I physically feel this paper, yet I can't even feel my own sword! Argh! This is doing my head in!_

"Interesting speech there, my friend."

Sygil whirled around in surprise at the voice, having been caught unawares. _Why the hell didn't my hounds I sense your presence! _He would need to investigate that dilemma another time; first thing is to deal with the next idiot that wanted a piece of him.

There were in fact two people before him, though he doubted they were human judging by their avatars. The person on the left was dressed in a suit of full-body armour, with a great broadsword and cape adorned on his back. He could see no face underneath the mask. _Not that it matters, as I can't use it to identify anyone accurately anyways._ The player beside him was a polar opposite. He resembled a half-goat/Capricorn, wearing a fashioned black duster with gold embroidery, monocle and top-hat. His body was covered in brown fur, his feet hoofed, and large claws extended from his fingers.

Looking at the two, he instantly got the impression that these two were leagues more competent than all of the buffoons he faced combined. His instincts screamed not to let his guard down, and so he kept his sabre extended to face and intercept the knight, while his right hand remained close to his side, ready to summon his spiked chain if necessary. _I wish I could summon my guns right now._ Meanwhile, his shadow-hounds began to flank the two potential adversaries, who thus-far remained stationary.

"Who wants to know?" There was a challenging tone underneath, as if to test who was the dominant person.

The Capricorn chuckled while the knight took a step forward, keeping his arms to his side. "I do. I overheard your talk. Witnessed the essential curb-stomping of those other players by your summons. I want to thank you for at least maintaining impartiality towards class differences, even if I don't approve of all of your methods."

"Well, I don't exactly care what you approve of really. I also doubt you are here to congratulate me on my victory. What do you want."

The last sentence was directed with subtle hostility towards the newcomers.

"If you are here to harass me like these late morons, then I am afraid you will be disappointed."

The Capricorn let loose a hearty chuckle as the knight responded. "We were actually nearby in the area, trying to find a player and get back one of our guild's items that was stolen. We were wondering if you would know about it?"

Sygil cupped his chin with his free hand and raised an eyebrow as if pondering upon a memory to recall. After a couple seconds, he shook his head slightly as if to say no. "Not overly. I am new to the game and only just recently ran into these assholes. There was a knight I did encounter, wore armour similar to you… mr?" Sygil prompted elaborately with a slow rotation of his free hand.

The knight leaned forward slightly as if to bow, but kept his attention focused on Sygil as he answered, whilst the Capricorn took a more open stance. However, both, remained in defensive positions regardless.

"Ah, pardon my rudeness. My name is Touch-me, and this is my companion Ulbert Alain Odle."


	4. The first fallen domino

**Disclaimer at start of first chapter:**

**Feel free to provide any feedback to help me improve my writing and story in general**

* * *

**Suggested age rating: M**

**-Frequent strong language**

* * *

****The first fallen domino****

Sygil could not believe what he had just heard. The knight before him had just stated his name was Touch-me. TOUCH-ME! What the actual fuck! Was this a joke, or was it an attempt to fuck with him. Or, god forbid, was the player before him serious. While it was wise to never spoil potential relations, especially those that could prove profitable, he could not help but release the snort of amusement that escaped his mouth.

"That is the Silver Paladin you are talking to. The World Champion, as much as it pains me to say." That last part was muttered under the breath of Ulbert Ulain. "It would do you well to be more respectful with us, should you wish to profit from this encounter." The next sentence was more authoritative and sinister. Sygil, however, was hardly intimidated, especially since they were game avatars and he doubted they could pose a real significant threat to him. Still, again, he would play it safe for now, as he wasn't sure about the permanence of his death, should it occur, in a game that was literally using his soul to connect.

"Respect is earned, and so far, you haven't earned mine." Shot back Sygil. Ulbert took a step forward with agitation, however, Touch-me blocked him with an extended arm. "Ulbert! Let's be nice."

"No, the human should learn his place. We are literally lords of this place. If anything, he should earn OUR respect!" "ULBERT!" Touch-me then lowered his voice to be more calm. "We will discuss this later! It wouldn't kill you to be more respectful to people."

_Apparently, there is some sort of friction between the two_, Sygil observed, ignoring the Ulbert's arrogance. Touch-me turned to face Sygil somewhat apologetically whilst Ulbert backed off. "I am sorry for my companions behaviour."

"I am somewhat used to it." Responded Sygil somewhat coldly.

"Perhaps you would like to introduce yourself, and we can try again from there," tried Touch-me. So far this Touch-me person was more level-headed and sincere than Ulbert, so Sygil was willing to oblige for now. With a flourish of his free hand, he bowed before, adopting a more cheerful demeanour with a slight, closed, devilish smile.

"My name is Sygil," he began, giving only his first name.

"Well, Sygil, could you describe this knight to me. Where did you see him?" Began Touch-me.

While Sygil admired the more respectful tone, he was a demon by nature. _No matter what the stupid game might say!_

"That information will cost you." Stated Sygil respectfully, however the undertone was clear. There was a brief silence, before Ulbert responded, more to Touch-me and as if he was smirking.

"I might stand corrected. I think I might like this guy, even if he is human."

_I thought you said you overheard my conversation? If so, you would know those morons previously mentioned they had a hard-on for trying to kill me for being a heteromorph, not a human. Not that I probably am anymore._ This left him to ponder quickly. They lacked information but were trying to bluff their way through, acting as if they knew about him and his predicament. _So next, you will try to begin questioning me, as if to confirm my story, while really just probing me._ Sygil internally smiled. _I'll feed you some crumbs, but instead you'll play the game by MY rules._

Before the two could object to what Sygil had just said, he continued. "A question for a question. Seems like a fair trade. I will answer one question from you, provided I can ask one back."

The two seemed to remain silent for a moment, as if having a hidden conversation, before Touch-me responded.

"We accept the terms."

"So," interjected Ulbert, "what of the knight?"

Sygil smirked. "You already asked a question. Now it is my turn." If Ulbert was going to object, he had no opportunity as Touch-me again accepted.

"Excellent. So, I have your names, but I know nothing else about you. So, give me some background history."

Once again, the two seemed to pause as if having a private conversation, before Ulbert spoke up.

"Touch Me and I are companions. We are part of a guild, Ainz Ooal Gown." Touch-Me continued on behalf of Ulbert. "We belong to the heteromorph racial class. So. The knight."

Sygil nodded slowly as he processed the information, which wasn't overly much to go by, only the bare-bone basics.

"I ran into a knight in a town back yonder," he gestured in the approximate direction of Mythlhymn,"and he didn't overly like me. Bit of an arrogant prick." There was a pause as Touch-Me and Ulbert waited for him to continue. However, Sygil remained silent.

"How did you both get so close without me knowing?"

"Anti-divination and scrying magic. It allows us to get fairly close without any detection." Touch-Me responded curtly as if it were basic knowledge. That was somewhat alarming.

"So where is the knight now, Sygil," started Ulbert.

"Honestly, I don't know. Last I saw of him was him charging off of a cliff as I ran him through with my sabre. Whether he died or not is up for debate, but he is no longer my problem."

As they spoke, Sygil's hounds slowly circled around the two other players. However, Touch-Me put a hand on the hilt of his sword strapped to his back, whilst Ulbert spoke.

"I would advise you call off your summons as they will not be sufficient to win." Sygil merely chuckled in response. "We would have to find out, wouldn't we. Besides, one can't be too cautious. The first people I met here wanted to run me through, so who's to say this isn't a ploy to do the same?"

Touch-Me shook his head. "We have no intention of doing so, so long as you have no intention either."

Sygil contemplated the situation as the tension increased. To the relief of both the guild-members, Sygil recalled his summons. With a snap of his fingers, the hounds dissipated away, leaving only the three players there. "Are we happy now?" The tone was almost sarcastic, but was regardless genuine.

Both players stance eased and Touch-Me released his grip on his sword. "Better."

Truthfully, Sygil wasn't overly concerned by his lack of hounds as he could summon them instantly. However, it was better to appease the two before him to some extent as they might be able to provide information, even if it was intentionally vague.

"You mentioned you ran him off of a cliff? Could you show us this cliff. We would like to retrieve something from him if possible."

"If you can help me find a couple locations and how to get to them, definitely."

The two guild-members exchanged glances. "Where is it you need to go?" inquired Touch-Me curiously.

Sygil pulled out his newly-looted map before casually explaining. "I am looking for areas that can provide me with a range of information, specifically on holy entities. So libraries, inns or other areas with social gatherings. Preferably places where I won't be run out by other hostile people. Know of any?"

Touch-Me folded his arms as if to ponder, but answered fairly quickly regardless. "Human guilds and cities would be your best place, however, as a heteromorph, you would most likely be attacked and killed." He seemed to pause as if contemplating something. Ulbert, however, seemed to sense what he was thinking and interjected. "You can't Touch-Me-sama! He isn't a member, he isn't even a heteromorph player! No! Just no!"

"Oh, relax Ulbert. I wouldn't jeopardise our guild over an offer. We can provide him some information, however, in exchange for some service. You saw how he handled those level forties."

"A mercenary! We have plenty and they are NPCs, no risk of betrayal. He is a completely unknown factor!"

Sygil raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I am right here you know."

Both other players turned to face Sygil. Touch-Me cupped a hand under his chin. "What race are you specifically?"

"I was called a heteromorph. That is all. Why?"

Ulbert sighed in exasperation. "Your specific racial class."

"I am unsure. All I know is I am a Heteromorph."

Both players appeared to gawk at him incredulously, or at least that is what he assumed they would have been doing were it not for the game inhibiting their facial features.

"Bullshit!" Shot Ulbert. Even Touch-Me was sceptical. "Prove it."

Sygil could sense the tension and attempted to diffuse. These two were part of a guild. Who knows what type of firepower for support they could bring. They were, after all, unknowns. "How exactly?"

Touch-Me sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. _Either this player is trying to hide something, or he is really dense._

"Open up your console, and – nevermind, I'll do it myself." With a flourish of his hand, Touch-Me opened up a semi-transparent orange box/screen and began typing.

After several seconds, he began to read out.

"Sygil Amadeus, Heteromorph, Specific race: Unknown. Huh?" He shot a quick glance at Ulbert, who was just as surprised.

As Touch-Me closed the console box, he started. "I apologise for my scepticism, it's just that I haven't heard of a player having no specific listed race. Uhhh. Momonga would likely know." He muttered that last part under his breath.

Touch-Me took a step forward. "Seeing as you are looking for information, and obviously could go for some assistance, I can ask my guild-leader to provide some information. However, you would have to do something for us in exchange. Seeing as you managed to defeat several level forties with comparative ease, you appear to know how to handle yourself sufficiently. We would likely contract you for potential mercenary work and the like."

"Touch-me, we" – "The cliff first, though," insisted the large knight.

_ That was an incredibly quick decision._ Sygil was sceptical of the offer. These two had just met him, and while not outright rude, he was admittedly curt in his responses. The goat player seemed to be objecting currently to Touch-Me's proposal.

_ While there is no guaranteed offer of information, you are pretty damn forthcoming with that offer. What fucking braindead idiot just offers a complete stranger a job and information without knowing hardly anything about them?_

"Why exactly are you so willing to help me?" Sygil was suspicious.

Touch-Me sighed before responding. "If the road is harsh, it is only natural to take your sword and help. That is what I have always lived by. You seem in need of some help. I am offering. You don't have to accept. But I would like you to point us out to the cliff."

Sygil paused, before allowing his sabre to dissipate. "It's this way, over the ledge." Without waiting for a response, Sygil leapt up to the ledge and began walking. The two guild-members turned to look at each other before following suit.

The next five minutes were spent trudging through the forest towards the cliff. When they arrived at a clearing, Sygil stopped to turn and face them. It was the same clearing, evident by the two broken trees.

"He went over the edge. Where to, I don't know, but he is somewhere down there."

Ulbert peered over the edge. A heavily forested valley lay before him, with the virtual sun laying between the two valley's mountain peaks. A picturesque scene, but false none-the-less.

"Now the information," asked Sygil calmly.

"I said I will need to discuss it with my guild-master first to work out the details. We can remain in contact in the interim, however, as I said, some things need to be sorted out." The last part was partially directed at Ulbert who was slowly shaking his head in frustration.

"Hmm. I will consider the offer also," responded Sygil, who suddenly allowed a partial smile to crack his features, forming a slight smirk. "Who knows. This might be the beginning of a great venture and future partnership.

"So, how am I supposed to stay in contact with you then?"

Touch-Me approached Sygil. "This is one of our beacon rings," he began as he summoned a small intricate ring. "It will allow us to locate you when it is equipped. Keep it equipped and we'll teleport directly to you." Ulbert turned away in, what Sygil suspected was, disgust.

Sygil examined the ring as the two began to walk to the edge of the cliff.

"You know," started Sygil calmly. "Not many people are willing to extend such an offer after just first meeting another person. There is usually a reason for that. You should be more careful in extending offers to unknowns. Regardless, I appreciate you for having some faith in me." Sygil finished by curtsying a small bow, his lips curled in a predatory smirk.

"In the mean time, I bid thee farewell."

As Sygil departed the two players he examined the ring in his hand. It was small, white and engraved with several gold runes. While he ultimately doubted the validity of the offer, he would give them the benefit of the doubt, after-all, the opportunity for information was something he was not willing to pass up. In the mean-time, he would search around and begin attempting to research holy entities and ultimately holy injuries. He just needed patience.

* * *

Ulbert and Touch-Me had scoured the surrounding forest where the knight Arche Doukus had supposedly landed, but alas, they turned up empty-handed.

Ulbert glared, or would have if not for the avatar's in-game limitations, at Touch-Me. However, before Ulbert could begin, as if his mind was read, Touch-me pre-emptively started.

" I know what you are going to say Ulbert, and I will explain when we get back. After all, such conversations would probably be best out of possible prying ears."

"Or we could just use the fucking messaging system," growled Ulbert.

Touch-Me stopped, turning to face Ulbert.

"We will discuss this when we are back at Nazarick."

Ulbert merely huffed in response.

* * *

The large conference room within Nazarick held a large circular table with 40 empty seats. The only seat that was occupied held the absolute ruler of all of Nazarick, and the guild-master of Ains Ooal Gown, Lord Momonga. Currently, one of the NPC maids was cleaning the surrounding walls and empty seats with a feather duster. However, no such dust existed as far as Momonga or the other players were concerned. As such, Momonga hardly paid the maid any attention as she dutifully cleaned.

Currently, Momonga was beginning to feel more depressed with each passing day. He had just been informed that another guild-member had decided to stop playing Yggdrasil due to real-life issues. While Momonga and all other guild-members were sympathetic to the real-life requirements everyone was dutifully expected to follow, it still hurt knowing that he might never hear or see from the guild-member again. While he had been assured by said player that when time permitted they would return, he honestly doubted the truth behind those words. After all, plenty of guild-members had said those exact same words, only never to return.

Currently, only Ulbert, Touch-Me, Pereroncino, Hero-Heroand himself actively logged on now, and even then, their activity was often limited nowadays.

Pereroncino only ever entered randomly, and he suspected it was mostly to get off with his NPC. While such activity was restricted in-game, the developers couldn't control what a player did with their hands in real-life.

Ulbert and Touch-Me were still ever-distant nowadays, only being together if absolutely required –

"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING TOUCH-ME!"

_ Ah, speak of the devil, no pun intended, and he shall appear_. Momonga turned to address the two players in question that had teleported into the room via the rings gifted to them. At first he was happy to see them both, however his mood dissipated as he was witness to another argument between the two.

"Are you trying to jeopardise our guild?!"

"Oh Ulbert, will you shut the hell up! You KNOW I wouldn't try to jeopardise Ains Ooal Gown, so quit acting like a spoiled child!"

"I'm the spoiled child?! YOU'RE NOT THE ONE LIVING IN DAMN NEAR POVERTY! You over-privileged moron!"

"Ulbert, I have had enough of this stupidity! We need outside players not affiliated to us to work with us. Considering how you seem to act like a literal devil, you of all people should agree to this choice."

"I would, if you didn't choose the first fucking person we meet without any prior knowledge! I thought YOU of all people would be collected enough to know better!"

"Then what better way to keep tabs on an unknown than to directly hire them!"

The two kept going back and forth, seemingly oblivious to the presence of Momonga and the now watching maid. If one were to observe closely enough, it would almost appear as if the maid was slightly shrinking back in fear of the two's shouting match and aggressive arguing.

_ What on earth is going on?_ Momonga was puzzled as to the argument.

"How the fuck do we keep tabs on them! By using the ring you gave them? The ring they may never wear, or get rid of! You seriously haven't fucking thought this one out!"

"Um, what is going on you two?" interjected Momonga cautiously.

Both players turned to acknowledge the guild-master in surprise, having been caught unawares of his presence.

Ulbert sighed in exasperation, cutting off Touch-Me before he could begin. "Touch-Me has essentially taken it upon himself to extend an offer upon a complete stranger, potentially placing our guild at risk!" Touch-Me snorted as he interrupted Ulbert. "I hardly doubt Ains Ooal Gown would be put at risk. No. Remember that player that stole one of our guild-items. Arche Doukus?" Momonga slowly nodded, regaining his composure from the bombshell of an entrance by the two players.

"Well, apparently, he was supposedly 'defeated' by a newcomer we encountered. A complete unknown."

"Now you are sceptical of Sygil," growled Ulbert as he crossed his arms. "I was trying to take advantage of a potential opportunity for our guild," snapped Touch-Me, his head snapping to face Ulbert.

"Well good fucking job Touch-Me! Let's start by giving him one of our rings and letting him go completely free without gathering more information! Fucking bravo," snarked Ulbert sarcastically.

"I was trying to encourage a potential future meeting with him so we could work out a potential arrangement."

"Yeah. By giving him a fucking Beacon Ring, so we can teleport right into a fucking trap! That's if he is still even wearing it! I know I wouldn't be wearing it if I was approached by two random players! Fucking idiot." The last part was shot with venom directly at Touch-Me.

Momonga intervened before things could escalate even further, if that was somehow possible.

"Guys, you need to stop and calm down. Who the hell are you talking about? What's going on. I'm already confused?" _Sheesh these two need to work on getting divorce papers or something. This is really getting out of hand!_

Ulbert, Momonga assumed, was glaring at Touch-Me as he went to take a seat on the far side of the table away from Touch-Me. In response, Touch-Me sighed, bringing a gauntleted hand to his face as if to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"As I was saying," he shot a look at Ulbert who merely raised his hands in the air to allow Touch-Me to continue. "We encountered an unknown player. He wiped the floor with a bunch of level forties."

"So?" Momonga hardly considered this noteworthy. _A skilled player pwned a couple of casuals?_

"He said he was a relatively new player. At first, I doubted that, but after seeing his stats in the console, I figured it would be best to arrange a meeting between us so we could decide his potential use. He wants information and we need outside players non-affiliated with the guild to do contract mercenary work."

Momonga raised a skeletal hand to stop Touch-Me. "Touch-Me, surely there must be something more to this player than that. I mean, level forties are kinda scrubs in the game. Anyone higher than 45 could wipe the floor with them. We would be better off sending the Pleiades for mercenary work." _Though I doubt NPCs would be of much use against actual players of decent skill._

"Yeah, well, his stats were zero. Zero, Momonga! The guy was barely rank 1 for XP! I think that warrants a mini investigation for ourselves."

Ulbert snorted. "Oh wonderful. Let's work with a cheater! You really are fucking stup-" "ULBERT!" This time it was the guildmaster that raised his voice.

_ God I hate doing this, but I hate seeing us fight even more! Back on track though…_

"So, a level 1, not even, essentially unleashed a can of whoop-ass onto some level forties. I'll admit, that is impressive. But also suspicious."

"Obviously," agreed Ulbert. Momonga ignored him and faced Touch-Me. "So, what exactly was your plan concerning this new player. You are sure he is a new player?"

"He said he was 'new to the game' and was around level 1. Otherwise, I am unsure. I said I would discuss it with you." "Hmm." Pondered Momonga. "Could be a deranker? Drop a couple levels and bait weaker players into a 'fairer' fight, only to obliterate them."

"Down to level 1 Momonga? I doubt it. More levels means access to more skills, perks, and essentially means you can more easily dominate other players. Not the other way around." _I get it Ulbert, but you don't have to be an ass about how you say it_, thought Momonga, not overly caring for the undertone in Ulbert's voice.

"He was looking for information concerning Holy Entities and relevant Elementals. We need some decently skilled outside players for mercenary work. I was thinking of a symbiotic, ah, business opportunity, is it Ulbert?"

"That can work, however, I am concerned about having someone with hardly any XP and capable of decimating level forties wandering Nazarick. We already had an item stolen because we underestimated one player. I don't know Touch-me. This seems a little fishy. What are your thoughts Ulbert?"

"Like you, I think Sygil is fishy. No levels; can dominate level forties; conveniently can benefit from Nazarick; and also 'supposedly' threw Arche of a cliff. Personally, this guy screams fucking cheater, but hey, I don't' have good judgement, _right_ Touch-me."

"Fuck off Ulbert."

"Sygil? Is that his name?"

"Yes, Momonga. Wears a black suit, black gloves and boots,"

"How exactly did he win?" Momonga was curious. A level 1 obviously needed an ace in the whole to trump a team of level forties, so what was it? Unless he really was a cheater.

"He didn't use spells, using his summons instead. They did the brunt of the work. He simply delivered a monologue. We only arrived near the end, so I don't know everything as of now."

"Hmm. Perhaps if you bothered to ask fully, he- " "Asked a question for a question. Ulbert, if you have nothing to contribute, then shut up." Touch-Me snapped at Ulbert, who promptly ceased to speak.

Momonga sighed, resting his read in his hands. "Please guys, is this necessary?" The pleading tone in their guild-masters voice caused the other players to stop.

"Sorry Momonga."

"I apologise."

"So you have arranged for a potential meeting with this player. Are you recommending them to our guild, or are you looking at contracting their future services?"

"No. I was thinking of contracting his services as an external mercenary, particularly for the retaking of our mine that that other guild, Seraph, captured from us. From there, maybe we could observe him and determine his overall usefulness or if is really a cheater."

"Fucking hell Touch-Me, why didn't you just say that earlier when he was standing in front of us!?"

"Because I wanted to run it by Momonga before causing false expectations with Sygil, Ulbert."

"Well I don't know Touch-Me, this is all very sudden!"

The undead overlords sudden burst caused the other two to look at their leader with surprise. He continued after gaining their attention.

"Normally I would run it through the other guild members, but…" he trailed off solemnly, looking down. "Nearly everyone is gone. Only a select few remain. It feels like it would be tarnishing their memory to just accept someone into our ranks, even if beneficial."

Touch-Me slowly nodded, understanding where his leader was coming from. "We don't have to accept him, but we can use him, save us some grief, and get our mine back!"

Ulbert stood back up and walked over to the two.

"While I hate the hasty decision making, I think I can agree with the choice of employing an outsider to bear the brunt of our assault. It would save us so many resources. Perhaps, I might be willing to consider looking at and personally judging his actions to determine if he is not a cheater."

"Then perhaps we should summon the other remaining members and cast a vote if we want to hire him. Ahh, shit. There's hardly anyone on anymore. I don't think there is enough for a valid vote?" Momonga was ultimately unsure, but Touch-Me intervened.

"Indeed they hardly come on, which is why as guildmaster, you can send a quick invite, and all members that attend can present a valid vote concerning whether or not we contract his services."

"And we can actually question him this time," Ulbert added.

"So are we going to do a quick invite now?" asked Momonga unsurely. Touch-Me shrugged. "We probably can do. Hero-Hero is currently working overtime, Peroroncino is unavailable. That just leaves us."

"So let's find him using the ring and get this over with." Ulbert had seemed to calm down a bit now, much to Momonga and Touch-Me's relief.

Touch-Me opened up his inventory to access the guild-tracking item for the ring. After a couple seconds of opening several inventory screens, a translucent screen came up. Momonga and Ulbert crowded around it see the location of Sygil.

"Uh, crap." Touch-Me didn't sound too confident, and as the two looked at the screen, it became apparent as to why.

The screen was blank with a no-connection error. Meaning, the ring wasn't currently equipped, so therefore tracking wasn't currently available.

Ulbert slowly turned his head to face Touch-Me. He exhaled slowly, but loudly, an obvious sign of frustration.

"Touch-Me, perhaps now you are going to reconsider my words of advice in the future. You stuck-up ass."

Before another argument could start, Momonga intervened. "Perhaps we can track this player using their account name? You did get his name correct?"

"Yeah, but even then, it might be an alias. Sygil Amadeus, though I have no idea how it is actually spelt." Touch-Me responded calmly, ignoring Ulbert's offhand comment.

"So…. " Momonga, if his avatar permitted, would have dropped his jaw in shock. He could not fathom how Touch-Me managed to forget certain details. It seemed unlike him.

"Um, are you actually alright Touch-Me? Normally you are a lot more organised than this? Is work getting at you?"

Touch-Me, of course, shrugged off the concern. "Nah, I'm ok. Just been busy lately is all." Momonga hardly bought it, even Ulbert expressed some concern. "Look, I get it, you are busy with work and all, and Yggdrasil is one of our only escapes," Touch-Me crossed his arms as if unimpressed. "Err, well, _one_ of our escapes from society, but you shouldn't neglect on sleep."

"Like I said, I am fine. Let us just find this Sygil and then we can wrap up our business and go back to spreading the glory of Ains Ooal Gown." Touch-Me jokingly started.

_ Of course. Leave it to Touch-Me to get sleep deprivation because he wanted to help someone_, thought Momonga in amusement. Before anyone could continue, he raised a hand, gesturing silence, before commanding.

"Touch-Me, as guild-master, I order you to go get some sleep. It's not worth your health. Ulbert and I will organise this Sygil person. Come back when you are fully rested and have time. We have plenty of it! It's not like the devs will shut-down Yggdrasil in the foreseeable future."

There was a pause as Touch-Me considered what Momonga proposed.

"Alright Momonga, I'll let you two sort it out." Not even a second, Touch-Me's avatar vanished as he left the game, a small notice being displayed in the guild's chat.

Momonga slumped into his chair and sighed before glancing up to Ulbert. "So. Now to deal with this Sygil person."

A heavy silence permeated the air as the two Heteromorphs glanced at each-other. _This is going to be a long week,_ grimaced Momonga internally.

* * *

Sygil stared at the ring he was provided with, admiring the slight intricate details, even if minimal, that were 'etched' onto its surface. A mock breeze was heard to howl by, and several leaves reacted. However, as much as he wished otherwise, it was still a game only and therefore the breeze could not be felt. As he pocketed the ring, a small blue emanated as the ring vanished into his inventory. He had finally figured out how to access his inventory as he was in the game itself. All he needed to do was swipe his left hand in front of his face from left to right and he could access it. Unsurprisingly, it was quite bare, with no additional equipment stored. Even his inherent weapons from the real-world did not display. His health bar was apparently full, with his stats showing Level 1, the rest non-sense gamer gibberish.

Sighing internally, he steeled himself to try and decipher what it could possibly mean.

**Mana Level 1; 100% Bonus points available: 10 XP** \- Probably something to do with magic, he assumed.

**Racial Level 2; Unknown. Bonus points available: 10 XP** \- _Obviously_, he sarcastically rolled his eyes. _Perhaps if this fucking game let me do what it advertised, I would actually know._

**Armour Level 1: 100% - Bonus points available: 10 XP**

**Attack Skill: Level 1 – Bonus points available: 10 XP** – _What? I already know how to fight thank-you very much. Levelling-up, is that the term? Should permit me to gain more skill points theoretically. Wonder what it actually does?_

**Intelligence Skill: Level 1 - Bonus points available: 10 XP** – _Fuck you for insulting my intelligence game._

After figuring out how to, he accepted the bonus points, which resulted in all of his levels increasing.

**Acheivement Unlocked – Win a fight against at least 1 player ranked 10 levels or more above you. – Bonus points available.**

Ultimately not too sure, he accepted regardless.

**You have now ranked up. You are now level 4. Go get 'em.**

_ Wonderful sense of humour._ He rolled his eyes sarcastically.

Seeing that there was no more to do, he exited the menu and sat down, taking in his virtual surroundings. He was currently in a hilly grass field, with the forest behind him. No-one was around, giving him some privacy. He decided to focus on the recent past events.

Starting off, was his ability to summon some of his weapons but not all of them. Looking at his extended, gloved hand, he contemplated the bizarreness of the situation.

Without warning, the deadly sharp blade of his katana materialised in his hand, extending horizontally. If anything were in the way, it would have been impaled by the action. Regardless, his body did not react to the motion nor the added weight. In fact, now that he had time to observe, he could literally feel no weight to the blade at all.

Giving the sword an experimental flick, he was rewarded with a vicious whistle of the blade through the air with no resistance at all. Being a literal, mostly immortal demon, he possessed some enhanced strength and abilities, and therefore any resistance felt by his katana was negligible, but this was something new altogether. _Literally no resistance_. He chuckled at the implications. He just had to make sure his strength didn't decrease in reality if he was going to spend a great deal of time in Yggdrasil.

The weapon dematerialised as he summoned his spiked chain. The results were identical.

_ Interesting._ Next, he summoned his Desert Eagle. Or rather, he tried to. Once again he was met by the same annoying feeling and lack of results. He could feel the short-circuiting in his body, a unique feeling, though not by any means painful. _Tch. Unbelievable._

Once again, he tried to summon the weapon, but nothing happened other than a repeat of the same feeling, though a little more intense this time.

_ Perhaps if I try the lever-action?_

And try he did.

_ Mother of Christ that actually hurt!_ It felt as if someone were extending his spinal cord, and replicating the feeling throughout his entire body.

"Urgh! This is so bloody CONFUSING!" He cupped his head in his hands as he tried to clear his mind.

_ So I can't summon my guns, yet everything else works. Or so I hope.__But why? Is there something wrong with the guns. What is the missing link!_

He must have sat there thinking for a good 10 minutes until an idea popped into his head.

_ Is the game restricting my abilities because I am actually entering it? But why hasn't it fully restricted them then? It makes no sense. I mean, yes I am breaking the laws of reality by entering a fantasy medieval game….. Oh._

It finally dawned onto him. _Guns aren't medieval._

"He. He he. He he hahahahahaha! Oh this is wonderful!" While the laugh was genuine, it was regardless rather psychotic sounding to anyone that might be listening.

The fact guns weren't medieval certainly explained away one dilemma. But again, it was only just a theory.

Shaking his head in amusement, albeit agitatedly, he looked into his next pressing dilemma. Starting with the ring he recently pocketed and the two guild-members he met.

Ultimately, while he had no intention of prolonged allegiance, this was a game after-all, the possibility of information which could help him piqued his interest. Considering the game actually restricted his guns, it gave more reason to suspect that Yggdrasil might contain the information he required on holy energy, weapons and healing. He just needed to dig into the right areas.

Since he was a Heteromorph race, apparently, he was considered to be automatically hostile to most other players and attacked on site. This would hinder his acquisition of information considerably, especially if he had to defend himself constantly on a potentially dead lead of all things. That was another possibility. The information might not be valid. Unfortunately, he had no means to prove otherwise, and so he would have to commit. On the plus side, his injury was fully halted, so he could progress fairly decently.

Concerning the guild, Ains Ooal Gown, he believed it was called if he remembered accurately, he would have to wait for what the other players decided. Honestly, any animosity would not concern him as allowing strangers into your home and guild was quite risky, especially since he hadn't proven himself, and additionally, since it was just a game at the end of the day. However, he would appreciate being granted admittance so he could more easily access the information he wanted. A guild as notorious as Ains Ooal Gown would likely have much information, or at least easier access to it. Theoretically anyways. He might be wrong.

However, while the potential gain was information, again potential, there was a decent risk. Remembering the Silver Paladin's words, he might not be guaranteed admittance or even an audience with the guild master. Furthermore, more likely, it could be some sort of trap he was being set up for. That honestly would not surprise; many a fool had attempted to trap and kill him. He would return the favour tenfold in kind and set an example. The benefit would be his notoriety would increase as he killed the guild-master of Ains Ooal Gown, something which should benefit him later. That was only if they tried to kill him however. Which was another thing he needed to investigate. The permanence of death in the game.

_ Players can revive or respawn if they die, but can I? Have to find a safe way to test that out._ This game was giving him more headaches now that he thought about it. Perhaps he should have just let Asphaestus kill him. At least it would have been over by now with little headache.

_ Actually, killing the guild-master might not work as he could respawn. Plus, this would be his home, and those other two might be present. I have no idea of the power scaling here. And Arche was a pain to deal with. Three players plus god-knows what else, maybe not the best plan in hindsight._

Perhaps his many years as a demon, and prior to that a soldier, were getting to him. He now spent more time devising how to control, dominate and kill people rather than diplomatically solving anything. While diplomacy wasn't foreign to him, it was easier to 'remove' his problems, especially since he was practically invincible to mortals. Now, however, he needed information and likely the generosity of others to help survive.

While Sygil wasn't evil by nature, he was definitely not a saint either. Though he could attribute that to mostly many years and incidents of betrayal and pain inflicted upon him and having to work alongside some rather shitty mortals. He honestly admired the decent traits and qualities of humanity, whenever they would rarely show through, and thus he would do his best to preserve them. However, these traits were rare, especially nowadays with people so despondent and depraved. So in turn, he would often act just as depraved and cruel to his enemies.

_ How do others justify their killing?_ He shook his head slowly. Once again, another age-long mystery he had yet to solve.

_ If only things weren't so grey to perceive.__Maybe these players will be decent? Hopefully._ He almost immediately banished such thoughts from his head. He knew the truth. People were vindictive, opportunistic and selfish.

The two players he had encountered were… interesting… to say the least. Touch-Me seemed rather friendly and willing to extend a helping hand. A little naïve, he supposed, but perhaps the world needed the innocent naivety. Ulbert, on the other hand seemed rather arrogant and more akin to a roleplayer. He chuckled as he remembered how the player referred to him as just a human.

_ Stupid fool, you are also human yourself._ However, he was also rightfully sceptical of him, unwilling to offer immediate aid to an unknown. From what he could gather, apparently he had decimated a clan of high-ranked players, which was rather shocking. He honestly didn't know how they were high ranking, or how the outcome was shocking. They had poor coordination and tactics, and he struck at them with his hounds, which relied on blitzkrieg attacks; fast and hard. It wasn't exactly fair, but then again, neither was life.

Perhaps he was overanalysing things, though.

Finally, there was the ring that Touch-Me provided for tracking. Honestly, he was sceptical of the ring. It would track him if worn, allowing the guild members to track him and invite him for an audience with the guild-master. Yet, no matter how he interpreted it, it seemed like a blatant trap.

_ Either that or this is the most poorly orchestrated means to invite a person to a meeting._

The ring could be lost, destroyed, given away, or not even worn. Though if he were to be honest with himself, the ring probably was traceable, even without being worn. Otherwise why offer it?

_ Perhaps again mortal stupidity has arisen and they are poor planners in advance?_ Maybe. That still didn't explain the lack of other means of communication. No, he would anticipate a trap. However, he would remain cordial with his 'hosts' until proven otherwise.

This raised the next question, what would the meeting entail? That was if he was even given a chance. In the event he was, he needed to be careful in what information he provided and what he didn't. While they were likely to be mortal humans blissfully unaware of the cosmic war between two clashing spiritual races, that didn't discount the possibility of information being leaked to outside of the game and landing in the hands of unsavoury individuals, such as Asphaestus. However, he should be theoretically safe. For now, at least.

As his mind wandered, anticipating potential outcomes and how to achieve the best possible results, he habitually glanced at his wrist-watch to see the time. Surprisingly, the watch still worked.

_ So a gun will not work yet a watch can? Though, again, clocks were around in the 14th-15th century I believe? But so were muskets? Or not, I don't know anymore, this game denies so many laws of reality. _

It had been several hours since his encounter with the two guild-members. He produced the ring he had been provided and examined it one last time. _I guess it's time to take a chance._ Without a word, he placed the ring on his left index finger. Nothing happened, but if the players words were to be believed, he was now able to be tracked now.

_ The ball is in your court now. I hope you don't end up wasting my time._

* * *

A whole day had uneventfully passed for Ains Ooal Gown. Momonga and Ulbert had agreed to maintain an eye on the Beacon Ring in the event Sygil was available. Unfortunately, they all had work, so the night and following day passed by with no-one observing the ring. Regardless, when Momonga logged on, followed later by Touch-me, they were somewhat pleasantly surprised to see that the ring's beacon was activated.

A short while later, Ulbert and Peroroncino logged on also.

"What a pleasant surprise to see you Pero-san. Been a while since we last were on together." Momonga was rather cheerful when he spoke, glad to see his long-time friend join.

"Eh, what can I say, I need to check on my sweet little Shalltear," he started lovingly. Suffice to say, Touch-Me was repulsed.

"I am sure that is borderline pushing onto illegal. She looks 14 dude " – "SHE'S MY LOLI DAMMIT SO I'LL DO WHAT I BLOODY WELL WANT OKAY DAMMIT!"

Everyone was taken aback by Peroroncino's outburst. The room was silent for several seconds until Momonga started unsurely.

"OK? Regardless, I am glad you are here."

"Yeah, it is. So who's ready to reclaim our mine?" Ulbert seemed rather excited, so Perorncino humoured him.

"What are you so excited about?"

Touch-Me interjected. "You know that guild, Seraph?" Peroroncino slowly nodded his. "Well, they blind-sided one of our mines a week back and now control it. Ulbert is a little enthusiastic, but ultimately, we want to reclaim it." "Through overwhelming force nonetheless," beamed Ulbert devilishly.

"Yes, although, we are thinking of possibly hiring mercenaries as cannon fodder to take the brunt of our assault so we can pave the way to glorious reclamation for Ains Ooal Gown." "Those are big words Momonga," teased Peroroncino.

"So have you got any mercenaries, then?" Peroroncino was genuinely hopeful.

Momonga sighed in defeat. "Unfortunately no. Although, Touch-Me and Ulbert apparently ran into a skilled outsider" – "Who is likely cheating or going undercover as a low skilled player," interrupted Ulbert, who was in turn glared at by Touch-me, or as what would constitute as a glare for a game avatar.

Momonga coughed before continuing hastily. "Yes, well, err, umm, that is the thing. We know fairly little about this player, _due to a certain groups lack of information gathering_," he stressed that last part at Ulbert and Touch-Me. It was a poor attempt at trying to be authoritative like his boss, but it seemed to work nonetheless. "Now we need as many members of the guild present to help, uh, democratically cast a vote as to whether or not we accept this player as a mercenary."

Peroroncino stared what seemed dumbly at the guild-master before stating the obvious.

"If he's a heteromorph and productive member of society, as per the guild requirements, then let him join. As long as he's good in your book Momonga, I'm fine with your decision."

The three other players were flabbergasted. Ulbert spoke up.

"Pero-san, I don't think you understand. We are trying to decide whether we accept this player as an _outside_ mercenary to _work for_ us, not actually join the guild. We need to determine if he has suitable qualities to work for us. After that, if he even is considered as a possibility, then we will use him as cannon-fodder. Likely ditch him."

"Oh, so I can get rid of a guild-member and we have a war about it, yet you want to get rid of someone who we don't know right away? Hypocrite much?"

"Ha, that is rich coming from you, Touch-Me," started Ulbert.

"ENOUGH! We are here to determine the eligibility of this player for mercenary work. Not bring up age-old disputes." Everyone was surprised by Momonga's outburst.

"Right, sorry Momonga-san."

"Sorry Momonga."

"Anyways. We all likely think he might be cheating or is more skilled than he appears. Hopefully it is the latter. But think of this as a trial by fire to determine his innocence. We can determine the truth behind whether he is legitimate or not, we also get our mine back, likely at his expense. He gets some information from us, pretty much in-game stuff about holy things, I think you guys said," Momonga turned to Ulbert and Touch-Me for clarification, who nodded.

Ulbert sighed. "We just need to clarify if he is legitimate and won't give us grief."

"That's what we are going to find out soon." Reassured Touch-Me.

Momonga pulled out the Beacon Ring tracker so he could search for Sygil. In the mean-time he inquired to everyone else.

"Do you know if Hero-Hero is coming on soon? I sent an invite out earlier but he hasn't responded."

"He will be coming on within the hour," replied Peroroncino calmly.

"Okay, sounds good. Now. Just need to see if…" Momonga trailed off before letting out an exclamation of satisfaction.

"Ah! He's wearing the ring fortunately. It says Sygil Amadeus. Is that correct Touch-Me, Ulbert?"

"We were only told Sygil, but yeah, seems like him." Confirmed Touch-me.

"Good, we can make preparations, and once Hero-Hero is on, we can start our meeting and cast a vote. Majority rules. That sound good?"

"Sounds fair Momonga," nodded Ulbert.

"Good. Ah, Touch-Me, if you want to go bring Sygil to the First Floor, we can hopefully organise a decent reception and bring him to the throne room. Once there, we will commence our meeting."

Touch-Me nodded and took the ring-tracker from Momonga.

"Won't the NPC's attack him though?" Questioned Peroroncino.

Ulbert confidently answered. "Not if a guild-member is escorting him and he doesn't draw weapons or attack. He should be fine. Plus, its best to avoid teleporting directly to the throne room. Some the NPC's seem a tad defensive of randomly appearing outsiders. The guy will probably be killed before we could order them to halt." He chuckled at the last sentence, mostly to himself. Peroroncino slowly nodded.

"Well, I'm off to go retrieve our newest helping hand," jokingly quipped Touch-Me, who suddenly disappeared in a flash as he teleported to Sygil.

Momonga sighed. "I hope this works out well for us."

Ulbert and Peroroncino nodded sympathetically. Only time would tell.


	5. Playing the Devil's Hand

****Disclaimer at start of first Chapter. Again, though, I do NOT own any of the rights Overlord and its respective content. ****

* * *

**Suggested age rating: T**

\- Some language

\- Brief bloody violence

* * *

**Playing the Devil's Hand**

He honestly wondered if he made the right decision back then. He had a reason to drive him away from the guild initially, but upon reflection, maybe he was a little too harsh. It was just a game after all. Ulbert had disagreed with him back then, rather vocally as well, and even though he received some support from Momonga and many of the other members, he could tell that they were not completely with him on the decision. After all, he had, ironically, done to another player what he wanted to initially prevent. Still, the past was the past, and no matter how he tried to justify his actions, it would often nag at him. That was why, when he first encountered Sygil, he saw it perhaps as an opportunity to make some amends, to psychologically atone for what he had done.

As much as he preached justice, he had come to accept that everyone has some flaws, and his was being judgemental nature. And that conflicted with Ulbert. It had created a rift in the guild. Even though people would try to deny it, try to say it was just two friends bickering, he could see it. However, he was too proud to admit. But so was Ulbert. And since neither would cave into the other, the rift had widened.

He wanted to give Sygil a chance as he seemed to be a defensive player, once again targeted for being a cursed Heteromorph. Maybe not membership, but something for him to realise that not every player was out to do harm. However, his quest for self-atonement had been contradicted by Ulbert, who while he loathed to admit as it damaged his pride, had made a compelling argument. They did not know Sygil, who he was, what his real intentions were, or if he was even a legitimate player. And following a day of recollection of the prior events, he had to agree. He just wished it wasn't Ulbert to point it out, as he would use it as fuel to stoke the fire between them both even further. He personally detested the quarrels, but he refused to cave into Ulbert, so it was best to simply avoid him where possible. Unfortunately, not every wish is granted. So he soldiered on.

Perhaps agreeing to this with Sygil, no, _providing_ this opportunity for Sygil was a mistake. Logically, he knew better, but in his heart, he wanted to prove to himself that he still upheld his old values.

As he arrived at where Sygil was through the Beacon Ring, he steeled himself for a trap. _It's alright to be optimistic, but let's avoid making a mistake through our generosity._

He had several items equipped so that in the event of a trap, he could easily defend himself and call upon his guild members and summons. In the worst case scenario, he could teleport directly back into Nazarick.

_Even a cheater would have an extremely difficult time against several Level 100 players and NPCs. _

* * *

Upon arrival, he was greeted by the sight of a lush forest and grassy fields on rolling hills. Standing before him was the suited player and objective of his, Sygil.

He could not see or detect anyone else present other than the two of them. However, he was a World Champion for a reason, so regardless, he kept his guard up.

"Greetings Touch-Me! I see you were able to come visit me. Is Ulbert with you by any chance?"

Sygil's friendly demeanour caught him somewhat off guard. He was half expecting the self-guarded attitude from him upon arrival at best, an ambush at worst, but he was regardless pleasantly surprised.

"Hello, Sygil. I see you are all ready and waiting?"

Sygil gave a slight nod in confirmation, so Touch-Me continued.

"Good. Now, I have talked to the Guild-Master about the proposed deal, and he is willing to hear you out and see for himself. I won't say much otherwise it will just be a repeat of what you will hear, but there is no guarantee the deal will continue as arranged. However, if it can be decided that you meet certain criteria, you will be contracted and in exchange, you will receive the information you want."

Sygil again nodded his head, a passive expression on his face as he stood there with his arms crossed.

"Now, however, before we go, I must warn you of a couple things," started Touch-Me seriously.

Sygil chuckled dryly. "What, if I attack you in your own base or steal anything I will face serious consequences?"

"Likely, but no, we will be teleporting to the First Floor and proceed to the throne room from there, so as to not incite a hostile reaction from the resident NPCs and Floor Guardians since you are not a guild-member. That goes without saying, any hostile actions will be met with extreme force from them if you produce any weapons or go wandering off by yourself, so stick with me or the other guild-members."

Sygil nodded in understanding as it clicked what he was saying. _The residents can be overly hostile to non-members so stick with the members to avoid being skewered in the back. I love this deal even more now._

"So, do you have any questions before we leave?"

Sygil paused for a moment before answering. "No, at least not ones that are relevant for now. I will have the meeting to pose the ones that matter, correct?"

"Yes."

Sygil cracked a smirk. "Then I am all good."

Touch-Me stared at Sygil for a good few seconds, and Sygil began to wonder if something was wrong, his smirk faltering. "Is something wrong…." He trailed off before Touch-Me interrupted. "No, nothing at all. We need to leave now if we wish to be on time. Follow me."

Touch-Me opened a large swirling portal, the height of two men stacked and half the width as he gestured for Sygil to enter. The portal swirled, an abyss of sickly deep purple and black.

Sygil followed Touch-Me into the portal, and next thing he knew, he was standing at the foot of a large, somewhat decrepit mausoleum, surrounded by many stone pillars and tombs. Further observation of his surroundings showed a large swamp , with many sickly and twisted trees and roots submerged in muddied and likely poisonous water. The tomb itself and the nearby surrounding land was fairly dry however, so he was at least fortunate his clothes were not sullied. _Actually, can my clothes be dirtied in a game?_

"Ahem. Welcome to the first floor of the Great Tomb of Nazarick. Stick close and try not to die." The last part was not said with ill intent or attitude, but rather stated as a cautionary fact.

Sygil nodded as he followed the armoured player into the tomb.

Many pillars and twisted pathways greeted him as he reached the bottom of the steps. It was likely a maze of sorts. As if sensing his thoughts, Touch-me corrected him.

"These are the catacombs. The first three floors are mostly comprised of these, littered with numerous traps and dead-ends. The NPC's are mostly low-level but do their job regardless. Perhaps if you are lucky you will see the resident Floor Guardian."

"I'd love to," drawled Sygil, not overly interested.

They walked for a good fifteen minutes, taking secret passages and random teleports to different parts of the catacombs. They ran across the occasional patrol of undead skeletons and mages, placed in well-formed squads of eight minimum, but Touch-Me's presence allowed them to bypass without issue, the patrols hardly paying heed.

Sygil glanced at Touch-me in confusion. "Isn't it a little risky to lead an outsider through the tomb, showing them the path to your central base?"

Touch-Me chuckled in response. "You'd think so, but the first floor is alive, and frequently changes layout. This isn't a problem for members as we normally just teleport to the floor we want to be at, so we bypass all that."

"So why not teleport straight to our destination?"

"There are several safeguards to prevent that. Wards and mostly the NPCs. If an outsider not affiliated with the guild, such as yourself, were to teleport directly anywhere in the tomb, even with an escort, the NPC's would react violently to your sudden appearance, and while we can order them to cease an attack immediately after, it usually is too late. At least walking with a member prevents an attack."

"Seems a little convoluted if you ask me."

"We plan on changing that soon, but it is effective now. Prevents a random attack."

"But we technically have teleported to different parts of this tomb, correct?"

"Yes, but not to different floors, so you will be fine."

The rest of the walk was silent until they reached the end of the third floor. They were in a large room, with many support pillars, and a stairwell that led up to a large elegant wooden door. Blocking the door however, was a short, buxom, silver-haired… girl, Sygil assumed, with pale skin and a large 17th century purple ballroom dress, with a small parasol held daintily over her shoulder. As she descended down the stairs, Touch-Me slowed and began to comment.

"Ah. This is our resident Floor Guardian Shalltear Bloodfallen," he gestured to the NPC.

"Charmed to say the least," quipped Sygil sarcastically. "No offence, but she doesn't seem very intimidating for a Guardian."

Touch-Me chuckled, meanwhile Shalltear appeared to have an intense look on her face as she seemingly scrutinised Sygil.

"She is a Level 100 NPC, more than capable of decimating any group of intruders by herself." As they walked by, Shalltear stopped and gave a small bow before Touch-Me, but as Sygil passed, her glare seemed to intensify.

Sygil slowed down temporarily; he could swear this NPC was actually glaring at him. Unlike players, who he could only assume limited emotions, Shalltear's felt authentic. _Almost as if she is alive._

"You coming Sygil? Best not waste more time than necessary."

Sygil, picked up his pace towards Touch-Me as they both ascended the stairs, all the while feeling a glare boring down onto his back. _Freaky._

As they came to the top of the stairs, Touch-me opened the charmed door, revealing a frozen lake within a cavern expanse that expanded as far as the eye could see.

"We can teleport across the floor and arrive at the other side and proceed to the next floor. Just don't touch anything." It was more of an order than a suggestion, but Sygil accepted, he was the guest after all.

For the next short while, they went through the floors, encountering different NPCs and patrols, sometimes skipping areas to avoid traps. The eighth floor was avoided altogether, with the reason being too dangerous. As a result they had to teleport right into the ninth floor using another of Touch-Me's items. Fortunately, the room they teleported into was secluded, with one other player shaped like the grotesque version of the yellow bird from sesame street, just more vicious. As such, there were no NPC's present to attack them or detect the presence of Sygil. Regardless, someone had to always remain by his side.

"So Touch-Me, is this our newest mercenary we're hiring?" started the birdman. "Maybe, Peroroncino, maybe. Is Hero-Hero here yet?"

The birdman, whom Sygil heard was called Peroroncino, merely shrugged his shoulders as he lounged on the en-suite sofa. "I dunno, might have to check with Momo in there."

Sygil was certain he could tell Touch-Me was sarcastically rolling his eyes in real-life. "I'll go check. Keep Sygil occupied and safe, will ya."

"Will do boss," saluted Peroroncino laxly. Touch-Me left the room, proceeding to Momonga and co. Meanwhile, Sygil took a seat adjacent to Peroroncino and began to take in his surroundings.

The lounge-suite was quite spacious, with high ceiling, red carpet, several doors along the walls, some small central tables and several lounges and chairs. A golden hue from the suspended candle-lights added a somewhat regal air to the room. While bland in some ways, it was certainly aesthetically pleasing and easy on the eyes. In his opinion, it was quite nice.

"So, is there an issue between Ulbert and Touch-me?" inquired Sygil, more-so out of general curiosity than real concern.

"Ah, you noticed." Peroroncino shrugged as he leaned back. "Bit of bad blood between them, no secret that is."

"Any particular reason why," prompted Sygil.

"Not really any concern of yours." Shot back Peroroncino, perhaps a little more harshly than he intended.

Sygil didn't pry any further.

"So. You passed through the first three Floors I'm assuming. You meet Shalltear?" He sounded hopeful, so Sygil humoured him.

"Yes I did."

"She's perfect, isn't she."

Sygil hummed and hoed, and Peroroncino didn't like it.

"She isn't overly intimidating for a major guardian. Touch-Me said she is a Level 100, so maybe I am missing something."

"She isn't meant to be intimidating! At least not in the form she currently is in. No. I made her to look exquisite! Did you pay attention to her very flawless being?"

Sygil deadpanned, "No. I was too busy trying to stay near Touch-Me so said guardian wouldn't try to rip my throat out. Forgive me for my lack of observation."

"You have no respect," pouted Peroroncino.

The door opened and Touch-Me entered, clearing his voice to alert the two to his presence.

"We are ready. If you just follow me and we will head to the Throne Room where everyone else is." He did an about-face and walked back out.

Peroroncino stood up and gestured lazily for Sygil to follow. "C'mon. Papa bones awaits us." Sygil followed suit, musing over the likely inside joke that he was missing.

As they walked out of the suit, they passed by an NPC in a French maid outfit with blond hair that was dusting one of the paintings hanging on a nearby wall. The maid instantly turned to face group, bowing deeply and stepping out of their potential way.

As Sygil passed, however, he swore he could see a small frown of contempt on the NPCs face alongside a glare directed at him. A glare that, again, felt too real. As quickly as it happened, it was gone though and the maid was returning to her duties cleaning as the entourage of players left.

After some brief walking, they came to a large hallway, with an impressive set of dual doors, ornately designed.

"The guild-master awaits," muttered Peroroncino excitedly, which made Sygil feel less enthusiastic for some reason. Then, Touch-Me opened the doors.

* * *

Sygil had to admit, the sight before, even though belonging purely in a game, was undoubtedly impressive. Dozens of massive support pillars adorned both sides of an equally massive regal carpet that led right up to set of distant steps. Dozens of banners with different emblems hung from the pillars, and a large, beautiful chandelier hung from the high ceiling. At the top of the steps sat a large throne. Overall, the room itself had a dark yet regal feeling to it. As if it belonged to the royalty of the devil's court instead of a virtuous king. Regardless, it was beautiful to look at.

As they approached he throne, several figures were noticeable by it. The first was Ulbert. Next to him was purple, slimy non-humanoid being. On the throne, the guild-master presumably, sat a large skeleton with sharper features and a ridiculously proportioned robe, with two skeletal…. Things? Jutting out and over his shoulders. A glowing red orb lay within his rib-cage, exposed just underneath. Finally, stood a woman in white robes with horns and black, feathered wings. He assumed she was also an NPC by the intense glare being directed his way. _De ja vu all over. I am getting the feeling I am not exactly welcome._

"Ah, so you must be, Sygil? Was it?" Questioned the skeleton.

"Correct. I presume you are the guild-master, and the one who will be deciding whether our deal goes through?"

"Ah yes, I am. First, let us introduce each other fully. I am Momonga, an Overlord and Guild-Master of Ains Ooal Gown, and you are currently within the great tomb of Nazarick! This is Hero-Hero, an Elder Slime," he gestured to the slime, who made a crude waving gesture with his … hand? Slime hand? Momonga continued regardless.

"I believe you have met the World Destroyer Ulbert Alain Odle, and the World Champion Touch-Me," Sygil nodded. "And lastly, Peroroncino."

There was a brief pause, and Sygil realised it was his turn to introduce himself fully. _Bloody theatrical lot!_

He curtsied a bow, a slight smile on his face. "Sygil Amadeus. At your service. I am currently looking for information, and according to Touch-Me, we were likely able to work out a deal that is beneficial to both parties." He initiated the conversation, even though he shouldn't have, as he was the guest and hadn't been asked but; 1. This was a game, not real-life hostage negotiations, and 2. He wanted to get this over and done with. He desperately needed that information.

"Ah yes, so I've been told." Momonga mulled it over, placing a bony hand on his sharp chin. "In-game information concerning holy entities and associated elementals in exchange for mercenary work."

Sygil waited patiently. He had to now. "I think we can work, however. We will need to clarify the entire conditions of the deal, as well as know who we are dealing with."

"Exactly. Don't want an unknown thief stealing from us again," interjected Ulbert.

"That is fine," stated Sygil matter-of-factly.

"So," Peroroncino clapped his hands, or feathered limbs, an audible clap being heard. "Let's start, shall we?"

"Yes…" trailed Momonga thoughtfully. "So what exactly is it you specifically want, Sygil?"

"I am looking for information on all holy entities, including but not limited to weaponry, tactics, abilities, class and levels. Anything even associated remotely with holy entities, I want. If you have a library, I would request unlimited access to it?"

"Hmm. And why exactly do you want such information. That information is hard to get by in-game and on forums. Why turn to us specifically?"

"Easy. Your members were the first non-hostile ones I encountered. We did a trade of information and Touch-Me," he gestured to the player, "offered a potential proposal."

Ulbert shook his head in amusement. "Yes. However, nothing is set in stone. We, Ains Ooal Gown, have a wealth of knowledge. Having said that, we are not willing to provide it easily without something of equal value or greater in return. What can you offer?"

While both parties knew the answer, it was more of a reaffirmation that Sygil understood at least the basic conditions of the potential deal.

"It was mentioned that you are looking for mercenaries to do some dirty work. I am more than willing to help, ah, _alleviate_ any problems your guild may have. All I ask for is unlimited access to your library." The slight predatory grin didn't go un-noticed by everyone.

"That seems fair enough, however, I think if we were to grant you access to our library, you would need to do more than one task for us. I think a go-to mercenary on immediate call is a fair trade, since you are wanting information. Information which may take time to acquire. Information, which we are not willing to squander so readily to others over _one_ task." Momonga made a fair point, everyone agreed, so Ulbert continued where he left off.

"However, you are also an unknown. We hear you took on several Level 40's and even a level 70, supposedly, with no real issues. All while at Level 1. While we will discuss the authenticity of this soon enough, we have no first-hand experience with you at all. Therefore, you must perform at least one successful initial mission for us before we consider granting you access to our library." There was an accusatory undertone that Sygil picked up.

"I can do that. Just give me the task, and I will deal with whoever you want dealt with."

Before anyone could comment, Momonga absently waved a hand. "We can get into that later. First. We need to know more about you. And I mean everything. All we have is a name. And honestly, many of us, myself included, doubt your authenticity."

Sygil cocked his head slightly, innocently inquiring, though it was obvious it was hardly innocent in tone and direction. "Why is that?"

Hero-Hero started. Sygil honestly had a harder read on Hero-Hero due to his lack of audible emotion. Whether intentional, or masked by the game itself, Sygil deduced he would need to be somewhat more cautious with answering to him. The other players openly displayed their emotions, carried through in their voices and gestures. As such, he could more easily predict their likely behaviours and overall demeanour. Hero-Hero though…. He would have to wait and see.

"You are currently a Level 1 player. You lack the skill points necessary to safely and easily combat players of significant higher ranks than yourself. And honestly. A group of Level 40's, while easy for all of _us_, should have wiped the floor with you. Not the exact opposite."

Peroroncino made an 'ahh' sound as he finally understood what the issue was concerning Sygil.

"Yes. How exactly did you defeat them then?" The scrutiny in Momonga's question was obvious.

_They're suspicious of me beating a bunch of idiotic gamers? I was stronger and smarter than them! How else do you – oh. I wasn't supposed to due to my levels. Ah. _

"I outsmarted them. Simple as that. I used better tactics in the face of their none other than charge and rush me. All I had to do was send my summons to divide and conquer. A task they did quite marvellously." Considering it was a fantasy game and two of the guild-members had already seen his summons, there was no harm in mentioning them. He could write it off as an in-game summon.

"Regardless, those must be pretty high-level summons for a Level 1 to beat Level 40s. How did you acquire them?"

"I don't know Ulbert, I was given them at the start of the game when I created an, ah, account." His response sounded believable. He just hoped they would all buy it and move on to another topic.

* * *

Touch-Me was watching Sygil closely, standing next to him and all, and he noticed something again that he had observed several times. Sygil's changing facial expressions. While an available in-game technology, it wasn't perfect nor readily available. It required several additional programs to enable, and even then, it still wasn't perfect. Ulbert seemed to notice as he opened up a private chat between all present guild-members.

_Ulbert: Is it me, or does his facial features keep moving? I thought I noticed something strange about him when we first met._

_Touch-Me: Yes, they are._

_Peroroncino: Nice to see you two finally agreeing on something for once._

_Momonga: Could that be related to why he managed to beat those Level 40's you mentioned?_

_Touch-Me: Possibly. It requires external software, unless it is already enabled? I think. I am not exactly well versed in the technical aspect of the game._

_Hero-Hero: Maybe ask him about it then?_

_Momonga: Yes._

* * *

Sygil waited for about a minute as the players seemed to have a silent conversation, judging by their movements and his lack of being able to hear them, until Momonga spoke out.

"Why do you have animated facial features and expressions, Sygil?"

"Hmm?" The questions caught him off-guard. He honestly didn't know he wasn't supposed to. Again. _Argh! This fucking game is becoming more of a hassle than anything. This payoff better be worth it._

"I am unsure. I am kinda new to the game, so I wouldn't be too sure." He tried to act calm, sincere and genuinely confused, more so because he didn't feel like any potential dilemma from his lack of knowledge. What was the word gamers used to explain things… _DEVELOPER!_

"Probably a feature that one of the developers made for my race?" He offered. The group of players seemed to mull it over. _That oughta work._

* * *

_Momonga: I can lodge a request to the developers to do a check on Sygil's profile to determine the presence of any additional software that could manipulate the game, as well as check if the account is legitimate?_

_Hero-Hero: Wait, you can do that?_

_Ulbert: Yes. Players and guilds with high enough rep can request that from the devs. They won't release any stats or information on the players, just verify if it is legitimate. I think that is a good idea Momonga._

_Momonga: Yes. However, it could take a few days until the request is processed._

_Ulbert: So in the mean-time we use Sygil as a mercenary to help reclaim our mine, and once he checks out or not, we can discard him if we see fit._

_Peroroncino: Whoa up a minute Ulbert! I thought this guy was fishy to begin with? Why hire him? Won't that damage our reputation?_

_Touch-Me: I have to agree with Peroroncino. While our guild is 'evil', we can't resort to using cheaters to win!_

_Ulbert: (Snort) Then perhaps you shouldn't have suggested hiring him. At least I am suggesting a use for him that won't actually _destroy_ our guild._

_Momonga: Guys, please. Can we not go into this again._

_Hero-Hero: So we hire him regardless, and if he checks out, honour our end of the deal. If not, wipe our hands clean. Win-win either way for us?_

_Touch-Me: And only for him if he is legitimate. (Sigh) I guess I can work with this._

_Momonga: Then it is decided! I suggest we finish this conversation and return to our questioning of Sygil to determine his suitability._

_All: Yes._

* * *

The group's silence was indicative of a private conversation between them, so he let them be. He could be patient. He hoped, regardless, that the outcome would be beneficial.

As the players turned to face him, he rose a brow. "So, are you contracting my services or not?"

Momonga let loose a small chuckle. "Eager I see. Yes. We will contract your services until we deem them unnecessary." That seemed to string a wrong chord deep within Sygil as he remembered similar words being told to him, on several occasions. And he vividly remembered how those deals ended. All too vividly.

His sour expression must have been noticed, as Hero-Hero expressed his curiosity. "Is something wrong Sygil?"

"Nothing. Just remember being told something similar once before in the real world."

_Well this just got awkward_, thought Momonga in confusion. However, that train of thought ended as Sygil continued.

"Regardless, I am ready to uphold my end of the deal. So long as you uphold yours."

"Yes, well," coughed Touch-Me. "To get into specifics, we have an immediate use for you concerning one of the guild's stolen properties."

"One of our mines was recently captured by a guild called Seraph. We intend on reclaiming the mine, and making an example of the players who stole from us," Momonga clenched his fist in anger as he continued from where Touch-Me left off.

"In essence," started Ulbert, "we need someone to be the face of our assault to help pave the way in for us and our forces. Considering your recently displayed skill, you should be able to help us."

Ulbert explained further. "You will act as bait and help lure out any of the lower-level players and NPCs out to deal with. Once they are lured out, we can enter through the front door with a loud bang and smash-and-grab essentially. We," he gestured to his fellow guild-members, "will take care of any high-ranked players, while you and our own NPC's will mop up all of the majority. Leave any players you encounter alive, if possible, so we can make an example of them." There was a sadistic tone in his voice, and Sygil somewhat delighted in it, even if he didn't overly care for Ulbert himself. However, Sygil saw several glaring flaws in the plan.

"Isn't a full-frontal assault risky? You are aiming to reclaim the mine correct- " "-Yes. However, we intend to demoralise them _and_ any future players from ever assaulting us again by using a show of overwhelming firepower to crush any major defences."

"So why use me? I am, using your words, an _unknown_? Isn't that a little risky."

"I'm going to be blunt with you Sygil," interrupted Momonga. Somehow, Sygil respected that. He preferred people that were blunt and open with their intentions and dealings concerning him, rather than trying to secretly manipulate him. "Your only use is to bear the brunt of their defences with some of our NPCs so that we can fight any remaining players at full capacity for an utter annihilation. We will assist where need be, but our priority is reclaiming the mine and making an example of the players. Yours is to distract and occupy as many defenders as possible to allow us victory."

"Won't that place me at a disadvantage, being severely outnumbered and all?"

Hero-Hero spoke forth. "As a Level 1, you decimated a squad of Level 40 players with relative ease. Consider this a trial by fire to determine your suitability for future mercenary work."

Somehow, Sygil believed there was more to it than that.

Noticing Sygil's silence, Ulbert took a gamble, mustering us much authority into his voice as possible. "If you don't want that information so desperately, we can look for another mercenary to do the job."

Sygil stopped, pondering his options. _Rather brazen ultimatum. I could refuse, potentially preserving my life. But, then I lose information and risk certain death in the future. Hmm. It is just a game after all. Death might not even occur._

"Very well. I accept. However, I want as much information concerning this mines defences as possible. It will make my job much easier and grant us an easier victory if we know what to expect."

"That can be arranged, however, it will not be entirely accurate," concurred Momonga with a small nod of his head.

"Hm." Sygil slowly nodded his head as he considered what Momonga said. "So. When are you planning on reclaiming the mine?"

Touch-Me took several steps up to the throne, before turning and facing Sygil. "We are planning tomorrow evening. Since it is the weekend tomorrow, we can all participate on the raid. However, so will the majority of Seraph. It will ultimately be a matter of who is the better player. Something I think Ains Ooal Gown will prove to Seraph and the rest of the community. Just remember to do your part."

While he personally disagreed with a full frontal assault, due to personal and professional experience, he didn't call the shots. He was, after all, just a hired hand. He would help them win the fight on the ground, but it didn't mean he agreed with the planning. Besides, it was just a game after all. _A game that may hold information to help heal my injury._

"I look forward to working alongside you," smiled Sygil slightly. "As do we," bowed Touch-Me respectfully, who was followed by several nods from Ulbert and Hero-Hero. Momonga remained impassive, just sitting there, as if gauging Sygil. Meanwhile, Peroroncino took a step forward, exclaiming happily. "Well, that sorts this order of business I reckon. So I guess the meeting is now adjoined?" Touch-Me sighed. "You mean adjourned. And that is up for Momonga to decide." He faced the guild-master who, suddenly put in the spotlight, felt nervous.

"Yes, well, um. First off, we would like to know a little bit more about you, Sygil. What do you do for a living?"

Judging by everyone's presumed focus on him again, Sygil suspected they were all eager. Before he opened his mouth and likely inserted his own foot, he briefly contemplated on what to tell them. He didn't need to tell them anything, but that could damage his reputation with them. _Not that it exactly is anything spectacular right now._ However, he also hated lying. Then again, he didn't _want_ to tell them anything about him at all.

"I'd rather not say, thank you very much. I like to keep my life a little private from those who it does not exactly concern."

The woman beside the throne seemed to intensify her seething glare however. How no-one noticed was beyond him.

Ulbert spoke up. "We need to know what you do for a living if you want to work for us. It's a policy of ours that we only associate with productive members of society."

Sygil stared apprehensively, before finally relenting, seeing as he was going to get nowhere.

_Besides, I suppose it can't hurt to drop a little bit._

"I was a soldier. Retired now, though. Now I work in the, ah, _cleaning_ department."

Oddly enough, no-one bothered to speak or question what Sygil had proclaimed. Momonga only nodded slightly in acceptance.

"Then this meeting is over now. We look forward to seeing you in action tomorrow, Sygil. Someone will teleport you out of Nazarick, and when you are ready tomorrow, we will teleport to the guild."

Sygil didn't have time to respond, as Touch-Me suddenly opened a portal, its inky black and purple swirling abyss becoming familiar. Said player gestured for him to enter, and he had little choice but to enter. _Perhaps I answered with haste?_ Regardless, the decision was made now, and as he entered the portal, all could do was wait and prepare for the coming battle.

* * *

Once Touch-Me and Sygil had left the throne room, Momonga let loose a sigh of relief.

"A soldier huh. That's actually commendable," nodded Peroroncino. The other guild members nodded, though Ulbert was quick to add.

"If he's telling the truth that is."

"We'll see, I guess," replied Momonga.

"So, that was interesting, to say the least," commented Hero-Hero somewhat in amusement.

"Indeed. Urgh. Now I have to send a request to the devs."

Hero-Hero patted Momonga's back with his slime appendages, hoping to reassure the distressed Guild-master. "It'll be fine Momonga. By the time the battle is done, we can compare what the devs have to say with what we witness."

"Indeed," nodded Ulbert, his taloned arms crossed. "I suggest that we prepare ourselves for the raid tomorrow. Once we are done, I want to go mob-farming for some more XP points."

Momonga chuckled, "Yes. Indeed. I can always count on you all."

Even though it couldn't be seen due to the in-game restrictions on their avatars, Momonga was certain Peroroncino was smiling. "Always Momonga."

* * *

"Remember to wear the ring tomorrow so we can pick you up and take you to the mine," reminded Touch-Me before he entered the portal, returning to Nazarick. Sygil was now left alone on the grassy plains he was originally picked up on.

He was aware he needed to be ready for the raid tomorrow, and with nothing else to do in the mean-time, he realised it was a good idea to test out whether or not his injury had in fact halted or still was progressing. The only way to do that was to leave the game and enter the real world again. He just needed to figure out how to leave the game now.

Fortunately, such a mystery was easy to resolve upon opening the menu with a flick of his wrist. He pressed the 'Exit' button, curious as to if it would indeed work for him, or if he would need to call an exorcist somehow to help remove him from the game. Luck was on his side, this time, however. He could see a white-flash and the game world rapidly disintegrate before his eyes, and before he knew it, he was in his apartment, the headset dropping from his hands onto the floor.

He had little time to celebrate, however, as he collapsed to his knees, clutching his infected shoulder, gritting his teeth in pain as a surge of fresh pain washed over his injury. It was momentarily agonising, however, as quickly as it came, it faded away until only a dull throbbing could be felt.

Grunting in pain, he slowly stood up to his full height before straightening his creased suit. His gloved fingers grazed the hole in his jacket. "Gotta get this shit sorted out too." He took a breath to compose himself.

_Okay. First thing, get a fucking suit that doesn't have a bloody hole in it. Literally. After that, maybe get something to eat, then hit a library or something. Hopefully Asphaestus is gone._

Ignoring the small mess of cables tangled by the dropped headset, he strode to a closed wardrobe, opening the wooden door with an audible creak. Inside were two more complete sets of suits, jackets and dress shirts with pants, shoes, boots, belts, watches, necklaces.

After finding an appropriate suit, he proceeded to the bathroom to change. As he entered, he began to remove them before the mirror so he could undo the roller bandage still wrapped around his shoulder and chest. A small bloodstain had formed on the bandage, so after exchanging it for a newer one, he removed it. There currently were no visible signs of the holy injury having exacerbated, much to his relief, though it still felt a little tender when he flexed it.

After redressing the injury, he put on the fresh suit, an exact copy of his previous suit. Once he was completely dressed again, his mind wandered to what he wanted to eat. Or rather, where he should go to eat.

As an immortal demon, he didn't require basic necessities such as mortal food, water or sleep even. They were more-so optional luxuries for him to indulge in in his leisure, much like someone would indulge in chocolate for the sweet flavour, drugs for a high, or sex for physical pleasure. Even though he could indulge in and experience such things also, they were non-essential, and therefore ultimately low on his priorities.

No, he required _real_ food that would provide him the energy required. Soul energy. And soul energy came from consuming souls. The problem was, killed souls offered very minimal energy, with each acting as a mere crumb. Enough to temporarily sate one's hunger for a short while, but not enough. It would take over a thousand souls to fill his hunger. And he didn't have the time to kill over a thousand people and consume their souls. That would result in a mass mortal police pursuit which would hinder his progress, even if somewhat manageable through more violent means. It would also likely attract the attention of nearby Angels. And also, while a demon, he didn't kill for the sake of killing, only if it benefited him or was the most efficient means to an end. Killing a thousand people who likely did him no harm was not worth it, and even somewhat tugged at what was left of his heart. However, he crushed those feelings. _After all, all humans have the potential to do great harm._ That didn't mean he was heartless, just realistic. Since mass killing and feeding was out of the question, even though he wouldn't not consider it if push came to shove, he had to resort to the other means. He would have to make a contract. Or find someone who had directly killed enough people give him extra soul energy. The problem was, he didn't want to bind himself to a contract that could take potentially years to fulfil. He needed his meal _now_, and his injury needed to be healed _now_.

_Guess I need to find someone with enough kills under their belt that can provide me with the soul energy needed._

The best choices for such targets were veteran soldiers, particularly in war-torn areas. Sadly, that choice was off the menu due to no nearby wars on the continent, and the nearest veteran likely over a hundred kilometres away. The next best choice, in some ways even better, was a criminal kingpin. Politicians weren't a good choice as their death could upset the balance of power, which might affect any potential future contracts. Plus, they made the most promising and interesting deals in a bid for greater power and wealth. _Short-sighted fools, hehe._ No, a criminal **kingpin** would do nicely. And he knew just the person nearby.

In the downtown parts resided a notorious criminal gang. Nothing too big, just a small-time gang of the usual rapists, murderers and thieves. Stupid lot, frankly, but more than sufficient. They all had taken several lives each, particularly their leader, so he would a have a decent feed which could last him a short while until he was healed. Afterwards, he could create a contract with a more notable figure in a bid to acquire a complete soul. The gang would be no major loss, and due to where they resided, Local Law Enforcement would not be a problem, not that he intended on sticking around long enough to be busted.

With a plan in mind, he went back to his bedroom, dumping the bloodied clothes into the laundry room floor. He could clean them later when he had time. He had several backup suits to wear in the meantime. _After all, one must be dressed professionally to kill_. He smirked at that thought. He personally just found suits to be rather classy and professional looking. It made him appear civilised, cultured, the whole lot. Not just some mindless brute.

Upon entering the room, he opened another adjacent wardrobe on the other side of the room from the closet containing his suits. A vague smile adorned his face as he looked fondly upon the toys in his closet.

He didn't just reside in this house to just lie low. No, this was one of his many safehouses. Within each safehouse was enough weapons, munitions and money to help him get by in the mortal world, and even start a small war.

In the right corner leaned an AK-104, while in the left leaned the Finnish Sako TRG-42 bolt action sniper rifle, chambered for .338 Lapau Magnum. While he could summon his own guns, which were likely more powerful due to being imbued with Unholy elements, he still preferred a more modern arsenal due to his prior military heritage when he was a mortal. He personally found modern weapons to be more reliable, versatile and effective due to a ranged capacity as opposed to melee weapons preferred by other supernatural entities. While the two rifles would not be **as** effective against angels or other demons, they were quite effective against other mortals when he was contracted by them. And even still, they had some practical use against other demons and angels, especially those that were unprepared.

He preferred the AK-103 due to its more compact size, while still being able to fire the 7.62x39 calibre round, which he found vastly superior to the old NATO 5.56x45mm round. The round had greater penetration against armoured targets and packed a heftier punch. The Finnish sniper rifle, again was favoured due to its high-calibre round, .338 Lapau Magnum. While a Barrett M82 would be more powerful due to the .50 calibre round fired, it wasn't as mobile nor practical to transport. Additionally, .338 was more than sufficient against long range targets. That and his summonable guns were the equivalent of grenade-launchers in terms of damage output, especially to mortals. One of the advantages of imbuing Unholy elements into bullets and weapons. The downside was, it would hurt like hell to be shot by his own weapon. At least mortal guns would only leave a flesh wound at worst. One of the benefits of immortality.

The advantage to using the 'mortal' rifles was the availability of ammo, and the easy way to blame attacks on someone else. After all, who would waltz into a meth-factory and shoot everyone up with an Adler-A110 lever-action? It was impractical, and would leave a noticeable trail behind. One that supernatural entities could follow. He cared little for the 'mortals' being able to trace him. He could always kill anyone sent after him or just teleport out using his shadows.

The only problem was he couldn't summon the rifles. All weapons had to be 'treated' in order to be summoned, and automatic weapons and scopes, especially with electrical components and fibres and related optics with magnifications tended to be rather difficult to transpose into a summonable form. It took him a great deal of time, energy, effort and understanding in order to transpose the handguns and revolvers alongside his shotgun, and that was mostly due to their simpler nature. Revolving cylinders and levers where much easier than gas-operated pistons. How the Desert Eagles worked was a miracle unto itself, but he never had any further luck, so he stuck to transposing mostly melee weapons, such as swords, knives, axes, halberds, spiked chains and the lot due to their simple designs. As a result, however, he needed to spend many years learning how to properly use said weapons, as sometimes a gun wasn't enough. Even then, he wasn't fully versed in everything, but it was better than nothing, if a little overkill. At least he had his hounds to keep him company and assist.

While shadow manipulation could do a lot, he preferred the hounds due to their sentience. He could summon an entire shadow army if he wanted, the problem was having enough darkness present. That and the army would be mostly mindless, only able to act as a basic third eye or engage in melee combat. That combat skill was directly linked to his own martial arts abilities and competence with bladed weaponry. If he sucked, so did they. That provided another incentive to train. Shame he never used them however. Then again, having a literal army of darkness would attract much more attention than a couple shadow-hounds. Regardless, he developed a high proficiency in physical combat skills, including self-defence and other martial arts, knife and swordsmanship, firearms training and tactics training, though the latter was mostly when he used to operate in squads.

For this, a mortal weapon would suffice for the reasons mentioned. Not to mention, it was always fun to go into an armed crime-den and, what was the phrase again…_ fuck shit up_. For this, the AK-103 would be more than effective. Plus, it would help him blow off some steam. Although, going in Rambo-style might not necessarily be the wisest choice. The bullets could ruin his suit again, and he didn't want that again. And unfortunately, he didn't have any Kevlar armour laying around anymore. While mostly useless against higher tier Holy and Unholy weaponry, it was effective against many mortal guns. Many, not all. A .50 BMG green-tip still hurt like a bitch, even for a mortal gun. Mostly because it fucked up his suit. It was a shame clothes were not as durable as some armours.

_Guess shadow teleportation will be the main move of the night._ Letting loose his hounds, while more efficient would mean they, the hounds, would claim and consume the souls, not him.

Grabbing the AK-103 and two spare magazines, he closed the closet door and went to the kitchen, flicking on the dim fluorescent light. The kitchen was sparse, with only a single vase on the small circular table. There was no food in the fridge as he didn't _need_ to eat mortal food. A perk.

Setting the rifle on the table with the two magazines, he grabbed a magnetic map of the suburb of the city he was in.

_Fucking wish these maps covered more than just __**A**__ suburb. How about the whole damn city!_ Crumpling the map up and tossing it onto a nearby counter-top, he walked back to his AK-103.

_Guess I need to go there by memory._ Looking at his watch, the time 10.14 PM. The sun was gone outside, replaced with a full moon that illuminated anywhere its light could touch.

Ignoring the light cast by the moons reflectivity, he tried to memorise the gang's specific base location. He remembered they were in the downtown part of the city. If he was correct, they were just four blocks south of an old service-station. Adjacent to their hideout was an abandoned auto-wrecker and car-scrapping yard. It would take him an hour walk to get to the downtown part of the city. Then another 40 minutes to get the old service-station. All up, possibly two hours to get there, and another two to get back. The 'feast', so to put it, should only take 15 minutes, maybe 20 if he had to deal with runners. That was being lenient though, it would probably be over in five minutes. But since he was using an automatic weapon which was honestly quite loud, Law Enforcement could be called to investigate. And he really didn't want to kill any of them as it would result in a big chase and investigation which would hinder his progress. Fortunately, the nearest police station was a fair ways away, so he would have time to leave before they arrived. Furthermore, because of the gang's isolated location, all the 'good' people didn't live nearby so they weren't as likely to invite a figurative bear into their own den. All he had to deal with was likely 20 crazed and drug-addicted murderers. Plus the additional neighbouring fools who might want to intervene and capitalise on the assault on the gang.

Sighing, he picked up the assault rifle, inspecting it carefully before deeming it to be satisfactorily clean and fit for service.

Pocketing the two spare magazines inside his suit-jacket, he straightened his tie and turned off the kitchen lights.

After closing the apartment door and locking it, he went down the worn and decrepit stairs, a single flickering street light illuminating only a small area at the base of the apartment which met with the street road. Most of the nearby apartments were dark also, their occupants either sleeping or non-existent.

After checking that both sides of the street were clear, he began his brisk walk to the downtown slums.

_Time to pay Vessie a visit._

* * *

Vessie was a lowlife that fit many of the criminal stereotypes. A lithe woman of African-American descent, what she lacked in brawn she made up in brutality. A ragged jacket covered her torso, while the missing shoulders ripped at the seams exposed long dark arms with many black tribal tattoos. Ripped jeans with scuffed brown combat boots, both of which housed a switch-blade or two. A leather belt held two holsters and a combat knife sheathe. Several tribal necklaces, ranging from extracted animal fangs and claws, to coloured beads and pearls adorned her neck. Fingerless gloves with studded knuckles added to the intimidation factor. The sides of her head were clean-shaven, while the top was a knotted mass of lengthy braided hair which cascaded beyond shoulder length.

Intelligence-wise, she wasn't anything special, but in the modern age, one didn't need to be smart to be effective. After-all, a bullet coupled with a brutal and psychotic behaviour were enough for anyone to be wary around.

Morality-wise, she was disturbed, to say the least. Her criminal history included murder, home-invasion, armed robbery, rape, money-laundering, human-trafficking, torture and many others. However, due to her volatile nature, she never ascended higher in the criminal underworld, thus leaving her with her despondent gang of similar thieves, murderers and rapists. And that was the reason he wanted her and her merry little gang as the feast for tonight.

The sheer amount of souls brutalised and killed by her and her lackeys, while nowhere comparable to other more notorious criminals, was more than sufficient to hold him over for a decent month or two even.

He had encountered her in the past on a previous contract years before. Before his contractor… _fulfilled_ his end of the deal. Needless to say, she was interested in contracting his skills as an enforcer. When he turned her down, however, due to the fact it would result in two conflicting contracts which could not be both upheld, she grew quite angry, and only through the intervention of his contractor had she narrowly avoided being skewered by a manipulated shadow from behind. However, she had tried to still contract him after he finished the contract, only to not be able to access him.

Should he really turn down the opportunity for a possible contract, which would prove more beneficial in the long-run? He had considered it, but ultimately found himself not wanting to be associated with either her or her despondent gang. That, and she was more than likely to attempt to stab him in the back sooner rather than later. Key word being _attempt_.

* * *

After several hours of walking, he finally arrived at the dilapidated apartment complex/warehouse hybrid building, which was ugly as hell if he was being honest with himself, adjacent from the auto-wrecker car yard. Several silhouettes could be seen near some of the vaguely-lit windows, holding what looked like make-shift spears, clubs, and even a few guns amongst them.

"HEY! Motherfucker! Get the fuck on the ground, bitch, and put 'em where I can see em! Got that asshole!"

_Charming way to start a conversation,_ he thought sarcastically.

The person addressing him was also black, with a stained white singlet, blue jeans, and a backwards baseball cap. He was thrusting a small revolver in his direction, holding it sideways like an absolute moron. _Gangster style is it?_ He mused.

Ignoring him, he continued walking, holding his AK-103 proudly in plain sight.

"OI! I'm talking to you bitch!"

The commotion seemed to get some more attention from the gang-members in the building.

Sygil cleared his throat before calmly speaking. "Do me a favour and please go fetch your boss, Vessie. Tell her, Sygil is here. She'll understand."

"Bitch, I don't think you understand who the fuck you're talkin' to! Get on the ground and gimme your shit, now!" By now, the goon was in his face. Either he was brave enough to approach someone with an AK in their hand, or he was dumb enough not to care. As tempting as it was to shoot the dickhead and get the show started, he wanted to confirm Vessie was here, and what better way than to start some commotion.

Before the thug could react, he brought to stock of the gun into his face, breaking his nose and jaw with an audible crack. He crumpled to the ground in a silent heap, likely unconscious.

"I'll only be asking one more time, get Vessie." This time, it was with more authority in his voice. Several of the silhouettes scrambled inside, while others raised their weapons, likely guns, at him.

He didn't need to wait long, as Vessie came storming to one of the windows.

"Sygil?! What the fuck you think you're doing showing your ass here mutha-fucka!" Her accent was Spanish, her voice was loud, and her attitude sounded pissed.

"I'm here to do a trade of sorts. You interested?" He cocked an eyebrow, even though it was hard to see with the few street-lights nearby.

Her tone sounded gleeful upon hearing that. More than likely if he did do a trade, she would accept what he has, kill him and then retrieve what she gave him. "Hell yeah! You thinking of finally joining me and ascendin' to powah!" _HELL. NO!_

"Maybe. You gonna let me in so we can discuss the deal better?" So far he counted seven individuals, excluding unconscious idiot and Vessie. Three had rifles from what he could make out, and two had handguns. The rest appeared to have melee, though he didn't discount them yet.

_These people are fucking idiots! You don't just let someone with an AK waltz up to your home. Granted, I shouldn't really be going up to the front door without a care in the world. Eh. Matters not in a minute._

"Alrighty, but you need to let my boys check you for any guns you might be concealing!"

_Do these dickheads not really see the __**fucking **__**rifle**__ in my hands! I get its dark, but Jesus Christ, no wonder you lot aren't running the bigger syndicates. You people are absolute morons!_

"No offence, but I don't trust these idiots to do their job properly." Some of the gang-members bristled at that, meanwhile Vessie laughed.

"That's what I like about you Sygil! You don't show fear! You really are a cocky bastard aren't ya."

Sygil rolled his eyes. "Just open the fucking door already, will you?" He was getting impatient.

**Recommended: 08. Alexey Omelchuk – Call of Pripyat OST – Combat Theme 1**

"Oi! Just because I admire your cockiness, doesn't mean you get to order me around and demand shit! Got that motherfucker!" Her sudden snap in attitude made the area seem more tense.

"Neither does being an asshole to me make you better than me."

"Bitch, you better tread reeaaal fucken' careful now, ya hear me." There was an edge to her voice now, and judging by the way she was fingering something by hip, she was fairly close to wanting to kill him now.

"Welp. Seeing as you aren't going to be a nice host and open the door for me…" the sound of a bolt being racked on his gun rang through the air. "I guess I'm just going to have open it myself."

Before anyone could react, he opened fire with his gun. Automatic gun-fire rained on the balcony, killing three gangsters quickly, while the rest ducked down to avoid being shredded the lethal rounds.

Vessie's voice suddenly screamed out from behind cover in pure unadulterated rage, moreso directed at her henchmen that Sygil. "WHAT THE FUCK! IS THIS MOTHERFUCKER CRAZY!"

Several more rounds tore through the building walls, and several grunts of pain could be heard. It didn't take long, however, before the gangsters started returning fire. Fortunately, it was mostly with handguns and sawn-off shotguns, and their aim was piss-poor.

After expiring the magazine, with professional ease Sygil pulled the magazine out, pocketed it and slapped a new one in.

In the momentary confusion and panic, he ducked into the shadows. But not before putting a single round into the head of the unconscious gangbanger on the ground.

He strode towards the door with only a single purpose in mind; to kill them all and collect their souls, or at least the remnants of it.

The door smashed open with a well-placed kick, and single gunshot rang loud throughout the first floor as brain-matter exploded from another unfortunate henchman.

* * *

"Where the fuck is that asshole!" raged Vessie to her men once the gunfire had ceased. The sound of a door several floors below being smashed open and a single gunshot alerted her to what Sygil was doing.

Standing up with rage, she snarled to herself. "Motherfucker's in the building!" While not overly intelligent, her henchmen were smart enough to know to head downstairs and intercept Sygil. Several more gunshots could be heard from Sygil's gun, though this time they were more controlled, and likely more precise.

"Uh boss, what are" – "SHUTUP! Shut the fuck up, and go down there and kill the prick!"

The henchmen just nodded dumbly and stumbled down the stairs.

Rolling her eyes, she produced a cigarette and lit it. Inhaling, she tried to savour the feeling of the smoke, while trying to drown out the sounds of gunfire below her. _The audacity of this asshole to show up at _my_ base and attack me!_

* * *

Sygil cleared the first floor with relative ease, weaving in and out of door-ways, traversing hallways, and popping of controlled single-shots to the henchmen's heads with considerable accuracy. With each passing kill, he could feel remnants of their soul escaping towards him, ready to sate his hunger. However, they weren't enough. He could feel his blood-lust rising. He wanted to get to Vessie _now_ so he could take her soul! He wanted it all for himself!

Another henchman peeked around the corner, only to be met with a bullet to the face.

Because he only brought two spare magazines and emptied his third, he had to be frugal with his ammo and make sure his shots were accurate. In a sense, it was decent target practice. However, it was taking too long.

As he came to the end of a hallway, he was met with a set of stairs which ascended to the next floor. Vessie was on the fourth floor, and if he didn't hurry, she would escape his grasp.

Racing up the stairs, he was met with three henchmen with automatic rifles. With insane reactions, both parties immediately opened automatic fire on each-other while ducking to the side walls for cover.

Sygil narrowly missed being hit, however his attempt to avoid being shot meant his shots went wild. Fortunately, a couple did find their mark.

One henchman went down with a pained scream, clutching his mangled shoulder, while another's fingers were blown clean off, forcing him to drop the gun.

Peeking from one of the nearby pillars, Sygil opened fire on the third henchman, only for a single bullet to leave and then click dry. The bullet narrowly missed its mark, impacting right behind the henchman, spraying cement and mortar chunks everywhere. However, his opponent wasted no time in returning fire.

Sygil had little cover and so was forced to lean into the small gap in the wall to avoid being cut up like Swiss-cheese.

The sounds of mortar chunks in the wall exploding, coupled with the screams of the two injured henchmen reverberated in the room, while the third henchmen let loose a long war-cry.

Sygil didn't feel like wasting any more time than absolutely necessary in dealing with the gunman, so after quickly pinpointing his position, he twitched his left hand inwards, summoning a Shadow-Spike from directly behind the henchman.

The shadow acted like a blade, instantly impaling him through the chest, killing him instantly. With the suppressive fire gone for a brief second, he peeked around the corner from a crouched position, reducing his size, before quickly firing a short burst from the final magazine he just loaded in his rifle.

The shots finished off the two wounded henchmen, allowing him to step from cover and clear the floor.

Several concrete pillars lay before him, offering limited cover, but provided him some idea of how clear the floor was. Running forward, he weaved in and out of cover, quickly pre-aiming at potential hiding spots were more henchmen could be lying in ambush or might pop out from.

After successfully clearing the floor in less than a minute, he came to the next set of stairs. Above, he could several running footsteps and the shouts of henchmen nearing the stairwell.

He doubted he had sufficient ammo remaining in his final magazine to deal with them all, so quickly concentrating, he summoned the shadows on the floor above to strike out everywhere, hopefully skewering everyone on the floor.

He was rewarded with multiple screams of pain and the sounds of flesh, bone and material being ripped through and shredded.

As he quickly climbed the stairs two at a time, he was greeted by the gory sight of several henchmen being impaled by a ridiculous amount of sharpened shadows.

The shadows were nearly impossible to see, but their long needle-like shapes were visible, defying the lights present on the floor, not conforming to any natural laws. Several agonised moans and groans could be heard from the henchmen still alive, barely clinging to life. However, many others were already dead, with the shadows having penetrated various parts of their bodies. The shadows protruded from every natural shadow, at an assortment of angles; from the ceiling and the floor, to the walls and even the shadows cast by the henchmen.

With a flick of his wrist, the spiked shadows dispersed, allowing the bodies, both living and dead, to collapse to the floor in a graceless heap. He paid them all no heed as he marched by to the final set of stairs, confident that any survivors would bleed out by the time he was done with Vessie.

One dying fool attempted to draw a handgun and shoot the approaching killer, but Sygil saw it coming miles away. As he marched by, he barely slowed down to aim the AK at the man's head and let loose a single shot, snapping the head forcefully to the ground and likely breaking his nose as brain matter and blood sprayed on the already bloodied floor.

As he approached the final stairs, he took them two at a time. He could hear Vessie's muffled voice on the next floor. And judging by the range of expletives she was directing at her own men, she seemed angry and desperate. A deadly combination for such a volatile individual.

As he came to the top of the stairs, he was met with a long hallway, with many rooms on each side, all the doors closed. Several dim amber lights helped illuminate the corridor, but dark shadows still permeated in areas where the light was too weak to reach.

"_I said, get that fucking thing turned on already dammit! Ehe, that'll teach this crazy cocksucker to fuck with me! No-one messes with me and gets to live scott-fucken'-free!"_

Vessie's muffled voice resonated several doors down, likely behind the very end door directly facing him at the very end of the hallway.

A door on his immediate left suddenly smashed open, but before anyone could exit or attack, he casually raised his gun perfectly horizontal and let loose a small automatic burst into the room, not even batting an eyelid.

A body could be heard dropping to the floor in a crumpled heap, and after giving the room a cursory glance, he deemed it clear and proceeded to the final door where Vessie lied.

"_How do we know this thing will even work?! He's already killed most of our men and – " "- ARE YOU DOUBTING ME! SHUT THE FUCK UP! THIS WILL KILL HIM, I __**KNOW**__ IT WILL!"_

Intrigued, Sygil pressed an ear against the door to hear what was being discussed; it sounded important after all.

He could hear the sound of something loose like chains clinking, followed by the all-to-familiar sound of a large bolt being racked. A sound he never forgot from his days in the military.

As his eyes widened, he instinctively hit the deck, and just in time as the surrounding walls and door became shredded apart by a fully automatic machine-gun, and judging by the sound, it was a big calibre too!

Wood splinters, pulverised concrete and mortar exploded all around as lead went flying over his head, covering him in dust and debris.

The barrage continued for several seconds, until Vessie's angry screaming caused it to cease.

An electronic whirring sound could be heard as the gun stopped firing. Risking taking a look over the small shredded remains of the door at floor-level, he was met with an even bigger surprise.

_You crazy bitch!_

Vessie and three of her henchmen stood behind a 7-foot tall bipedal robot. It, however, looked nothing like a human, and was likely even less friendly, judging by the two dual-mounted .50calibre barrels placed where the lower arms should have been.

It was a bulky machine, with heavy armour encasing and protecting it. However, the armour was also ergonomic enough to allow for significant manoeuvrability. The head was non-existent, instead replaced with a sharp dome where the neck would have been. A bright-red visor could be seen where its visual sensors likely were, which scanned back and forth.

The legs where heavily armoured also, and for feet, several sharp metal claws dug into the concrete floor, firmly rooting it to the ground to prevent it from tipping over or being knocked over. Not that any normal human would be able to; the thing looked as if it weighed over a tonne.

Two ammo belts connected from each arm-barrel and draped down from a large ammo-case mounted on its back. And the belts looked plenty full, even though over a hundred shell casings littered the floor.

"THERE HE IS! SHOOT HIM GOD DAMMIT!" Vessie's sudden order broke him out of his stupor as the robot aimed its barrels directly at him, while the henchmen behind did exactly the same.

He could tell instantly the same tactics wouldn't work against this thing, and his gun, which was only half-full with ammo, wouldn't cut it against this war-machine.

As the machine opened fire on him, he threw the rifle to the side and used his shadow manipulation to teleport the fuck out of there. It was a sloppy teleportation as his body vanished into the shadows and shot into the room immediately behind him on his left. As his body rematerialized from the shadows, he stumbled through several chairs in his way, running sloppily at full speed to avoid being mulched by the heavy-guns.

Even though the guns likely wouldn't kill him, it could turn his body, and more importantly his suit, into absolute mulch. Something he avidly wanted to avoid.

The machine seemed to have locked onto him, however, as a hail of bullets ripped through the wall, following him as he ran.

_Must have a motion or heat sensor, or something?_ It was the only logical way it could be tracking him.

The bullets stopped following him once he ran past a heavy concrete wall, likely too thick for even the .50 calibre rounds to penetrate. That didn't stop the machine from trying to shoot through them of course.

He stopped his sprint now that he felt temporarily safe, trapped in a corner between a cement wall and a barred window.

* * *

"GrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRR! God DAMMIT!" Vessie screeched in absolute fury that Sygil had narrowly escaped the war-machine's guns. Upturned tables, chairs, spilt food, drugs and drinks surrounded her, and in front of her, half the hallway and right wall were absolutely shredded by the robot's persistent gunfire.

The machine stopped its automatic barrage, and her remaining gang-members just stood there with stunned expressions on their faces.

Absolute rage adorned her face, and in an instant she lashed out at the nearest henchman.

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE, KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER! YOU!" She swivelled back to the robot, which turned slightly to face her.

"Follow him," she gestured into the room where Sygil was," and finish him off!"

The robot let loose an incomprehensible warbled sound, a cross between radio-chatter and static, before storming off and literally walking through the cement wall.

The return of the machine's automatic gunfire was music to her ears.

A sinister smile started to slowly form on her face.

* * *

"Oh for the love of…" muttered an exasperated Sygil as he desperately tried to weave around the war-machine which literally walked through the cement wall, shooting at him like there was no tomorrow.

He relied heavily on his immortal strength enhancements to give him the speed advantage, which was working well at avoiding the pounding guns, until he underestimated the melee capabilities of the war-machine.

The robot swung its left arm out, nailing him hard in the side as he ran by too close. The force of the impact sent him flying into the wall.

As he collapsed onto the ground, he could hear the hydraulics of the machine turn to aim its gun at him, before it continued its relentless barrage.

Once again, his shadow teleportation came into use again, allowing him to immediately meld out of its sights. This time, however, he followed the shadows straight into the room where Vessie was.

* * *

Vessie knew that Sygil was a highly skilled killer, but what she didn't know nor expect to witness was him literally materialise out the shadows on her flank, wielding two engraved Desert Eagles pointed in her general direction.

She immediately vaulted over one of the upturned tables near her, hoping to avoid being shot. A plan which worked for the most part. What she didn't expect was the penetrating capabilities of the heavy handguns. Most of the bullets soared over her head, but one penetrated the table as she was ducking down, impacting right into her lower leg.

"Gaargh!" She let loose an agonised cry of pain as she felt her muscles, flesh and bone get blown apart.

She twisted her head to see her henchmen get completely eviscerated by Sygil, blood and flesh exploding all over the walls, with only a few fleeting return shots being exchanged.

Panic quickly overcame her as she could hear Sygil approach her, but it turned into relief as she heard her war-machine return, its heavy footsteps reverberating throughout the building. And judging by the pace, it was coming quickly.

* * *

Before he could get to Vessie, the damned robot was upon him, its guns roaring to life, forcing him to once again run at full speed. However, this time it seemed to have accounted for his speed as it spun even faster, and only by the saving gracing of a coincidental heavy support pillar did he avoid getting hit. Using the brief cover, he aimed his duel Desert Eagles at the persistent machine, opening fire on it as he ran.

Since his handguns were enchanted with Unholy elementals, it made them much more powerful and devastating. So imagine his surprise when the rounds didn't go straight through the armour of the machine. Regardless, they did an impressive job of heavily denting and cracking the heavy panels, a testament to just how powerful the rounds were.

_How much ammo is this fucking thing packing?!_ As if on cue, he saw the ammo belts all start to drop and hang from the barrels, indicating only so many bullets left. He only just needed to wait it out.

It didn't take but a few more seconds before all of the robots ammo was depleted. However, just when he thought the thing was now more manageable, it suddenly charged him with impressive speed, its metal claws ripping up chunks of concrete.

He barely managed to dodge the machine's mad rampage, only to find himself being shot at by Vessie herself, who was unloading both of her handguns into Sygil in a mad attempt to kill him. He didn't want to kill her so easily as he wanted to drain her soul from her body, so as tempting as it was to shoot back and kill her, he restrained himself, instead opting to duck behind another upturned table. His peace was short-lived however as the same robot came charging back at him, ignoring the bullets he kept shooting into it.

It lifted both of its arms as high as it mechanically could before bringing them crashing down right into where he was.

Cursing, he rolled out of the way, directly into Vessie line of fire. Fortunately, she was busy reloading, so he could focus on the robot.

"Tsk. Stupid bloody thing." Dematerialising one of his handguns, he flicked his wrist, summoning two of his shadow hounds into play.

Without having to be told, they both charged at the war-machine, teeth bared as they hit the machine with full force. Both of the shadow hounds quickly melded into the cracks in its armour, vanishing into its internal components.

He paid them no heed as he was confident in their abilities to destroy the machine while he dealt with Vessie.

Remnants of smoky black shadow flickered throughout the robot as it desperately attempted to compute what was assaulting it. Wires, sparks and electricity could be heard erupting from the internal components of the machine, until finally a loud static screech was emitted from the dying machine. In a vain attempt to kill its strange assailants, it smashed both of its barrelled arms into its chest, only succeeding in tearing off one of the gun panels.

In a final death throe, its red visor flickered before exploding outwards, spreading glass and optic cables and wires everywhere as it lost power, tilting over and collapsing to the ground.

The shadow hounds, like hyenas, slinked out from the robots internal components and were summoned back into Sygil's extended open hand.

Vessie couldn't believe her eyes as to what she had just witnessed.

"What the fuck! You're a fucking freak, a god damned monster!" She tried to fire her guns, but they were out of ammo. All that was left were her knives. She was quick to pull them in her mad panic, desperately ignoring the pain in her mangled leg, likely due to the adrenaline running through her veins, and maybe the cocaine she had been snorting earlier.

Sygil twirled his remaining Desert Eagle as he strode over to her slowly and menacingly, a predatory smirk adorned on his face.

Enraged, Vessie tried to charge forth, swinging her knives wildly at Sygil. However, before she could close the distance, he fired a single shot into her right hand, blowing both her hand in half and the large knife apart at the handle. The blade went spinning off due to the carried force of the impact.

Vessie let loose a screech of pain as she stumbled back, dropping her other knife as she clutched what was left of her hand. Of course, however, her injured leg could not support her weight and she collapsed onto her knees.

Before she could fall any further, Sygil suddenly appeared right before her, his gloved left hand clamping tightly around her throat, lifting her into the air.

As she struggled to breathe, Sygil's smile only widened.

"Hey Vessie," he started mockingly, the massive handgun vanishing in his free hand. "About that deal I was mentioning earlier." He slowly tightened his grip around her neck as he lifted her higher, her feet now barely touching the ground as she struggled more intensely.

"I was thinking along the lines of a trade. However, considering the current state of things here," he gestured to the destroyed the room and dead bodies. "I don't think you have anything worthwhile to trade here. So instead, I have an alternative.

"I'll grant you a quick death, and in exchange, I'll take your soul as my own."

Vessie began to gurgle something. Sygil, in response slightly loosened his grip. "What was that, honey?"

"Fu…ck… you…" she struggled to spit vehemently.

Sygil merely chuckled in response. "Yes, well, it's nothing personal. Just business as usual. I'm sure you will understand."

"Frea…k…"

Vessie watched with growing horror as Sygil's free hand began to transform into flame-like shadows, still baring the semblance of a human hand, just jet-black and smoky.

He smirked in amusement. "I guess, in sense, this is karma for everything you have done in your life."

Before Vessie could react, he plunged his free hand deep into her chest. Even though her airway was being constricted, it didn't stop her from letting loose an agonised scream as she felt something being ripped apart from her.

As Sygil slowly pulled his hand out of her, she began to violently cough up blood and bile. With a final tug, he ripped his hand out of her, ceasing her screaming and death throes as her literal soul was ripped from her body. Dropping the fresh corpse of Vessie, he admired in his hand the blue wispy tendrils of her soul which was desperately trying to writhe away, all to no avail.

As he held her soul, he could feel its energy being drained and consumed into him, its wispy tendrils being sucked into the inky flame-like shadows that danced up and down his arm and hand. Before long, it was gone, and he was temporarily rejuvenated with her soul.

What made her soul more filling was the fact she was directly responsible for the deaths of many others, and as such, remnants of their souls were embedded in hers. And since he had consumed her soul, he also got theirs, which gave him even more energy.

He felt a sudden pang in his injured shoulder and instinctively clutched it.

_Hopefully with this feast, it should help stabilise my injury until I am ready to heal it._

Looking at the mess around him, he realised he needed to leave before any more people or police arrived. After retrieving his battered AK-103, he walked out of the building using the same path he entered via, feeling satisfied in sating his hunger.

He had achieved in what he set out to accomplish, and with enough energy to function for a good couple of months at tops, he was ready to continue his research. He needed to access a library and look up any religious texts on holy and unholy contents, as well as any mythology he could acquire.

_I have spent years upon years honing combat techniques, familiarising myself with the ins and outs of both the modern and supernatural world, and I get blindsided by a Holy infection. I feel like such an idiot for not preparing for this._

This was the price he paid for not preparing for all possible outcomes. It just meant he now had to spend more time researching it and curing it. Most demons under contract would simply reincarnate and avoid dealing with the grief of the infection, but he wanted to retain as much of his soul as possible and not become some mindless beast due to reincarnation. He had already reincarnated in the past and noticed changes in his overall emotions. And it scared him of what he could become if he reincarnated too many times. Which was why he had to find a way, so that way when the day came, _she_ would be able to recognise him. And so, he would try to stay alive so he could succeed.

Before he could access a library, however, he would need to participate in the raid in Yggdrasil tomorrow. Hopefully he would get some useful information out of the game. If not, then he would have to turn to other means. The one thing that was useful about the game, however, was its apparent ability to put his Holy injury in limbo, essentially granting him near unlimited time to find an answer. At least in theory.

And so, with a goal once again in mind, he proceeded to head back to the apartment, using the shadows to his advantage as he clutched his AK-103, ready to triumph over all the obstacles before him. He _would_ see her again, if it was the last thing he ever did.


	6. Darkness, the Bringer of Death

****Disclaimer at start of first Chapter. Again, though, I do NOT own any of the rights Overlord and its respective content. ****

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**First off, a thank-you to my readers and those that have left a review. It pleases me to know that my story is entertaining so far, and that my writing also seems acceptable so far. Again, don't be afraid to provide feedback; it's how I can improve my writing and story to make it more entertaining for you.**

* * *

**Suggested age rating:**

Some strong language

Violence

* * *

**Darkness, the Bringer of Death**

Nazarick was bustling with activity, yet somehow it just felt… empty. It was a more frequent feeling and atmosphere the majestic base had adopted recently as more of the Supreme Beings began to show up less and less. Currently, none of the Supreme Beings resided in the Tomb. They had all 'logged off' has he had heard some of them say. It must have been their way of leaving the world they resided in. Apparently, many of the Supreme Beings had logged off, only to return within a short while. However, many never showed up again. While curious, and often saddened like many of Nazarick's residents, he dared not question why. It was not his place to question what his Creators did or why! His job was to make sure Nazarick was well prepared for when the Supreme Beings returned, as was all of their duties! The needs and desires of the Supreme Beings came first and foremost, no matter what anyone else thought or cared. The will of the Supreme Beings was absolute.

With none of the Supreme Beings present currently, the atmosphere felt less tense and strict. As if he and many others had an invisible force lifted from them. He, like all of the others, could never converse properly with the Supreme Beings, only speaking limited and automated lines. As if some force prevented them from speaking freely, not that he nor anyone else would dare insolently speak freely without permission from the Supreme Beings. He lived to serve, and as such he was truly happy. But still, he wished the Supreme Beings could remain in Nazarick and let him and the other members of Nazarick work on their behalf. They just baffled him so much, the Supreme Beings did. What wondrous and intricate thoughts did they think on a day to day basis; where did they go to; how were they able to achieve the pinnacle of strength and intellect. And so, the 7th Floor Guardian Demiurge was left to mull over such thoughts, until Albedo suddenly arrived on the 7th Floor, a rare treat truly, as she was mostly designated to the 9th and 10th Floors.

"Overseer," bowed Demiurge as he spoke freely with his tongue, something they could all only do if the Supreme Beings were never around. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival?"

The Guardian Overseer nodded her head in acknowledgment. "Demiurge, I came to check on all of the Floors and receive a progress report on all defences and level optimisations."

This intrigued the demon, and so he stood tall and straight. "Oh? And may I be so bold as to inquire what may be the cause for concern?" Analytical as always, he had correctly assumed something was troubling the Overseer.

Albedo frowned slightly as she responded. "The remaining Supreme Beings have enlisted the assistance of a player, one not affiliated with Nazarick. Not much is known about this individual, with our lords somewhat sceptical. While it may have caught their attention, and I will fully support whatever they wish they decide upon, I feel it is best to err on the side of caution as it apparently utilises some other form of abilities and summons not known."

Now this truly piqued Demiurges interest. Not only was some stranger cooperating with their glorious leaders, but they had access to summons their masters were unfamiliar with? _No, perhaps the context is what was in question_, his analytical mind whirred.

"I see. And you have reason to believe that this player has yet to reveal any ulterior motives?"

"Yes, Demiurge. As such, until our Lords have deemed otherwise, I want you to tighten security around Nazarick and ensure no-one can enter our sacred territory."

"Of course, Guardian Overseer. I will see to it at once."

Albedo smiled satisfactorily, but then asked, "Has anything strange occurred on the 7th Floor by chance?"

Demiurge was quick to assure Albedo, "Fortunately, no. The 7th Floor is relatively deep and requires access from the 6th Floor. The 7th is relatively safe and un-tampered, at least concerning our defences. Any intruder likely would have been detected or killed."

Albedo nodded in satisfaction. "Then I trust you to fulfil your duties to the fullest. For the glory of Nazarick and the Supreme Beings!"

"For the glory of Nazarick and the Supreme Beings!"

* * *

The time had come. Ainz Ooal Gown would strike back, vengefully reclaiming what was rightfully its own. The guild would have its revenge, and there was not a damned thing anyone or anything could do to stop them. Momonga was certain of this as he logged on to the game, his Undead Overlord avatar being equipped with the highest tier rings and equipment.

He was currently in the guild's armoury, not to be confused with its sacred treasury. While the treasury housed the world items, he was not so foolish as to use them on a couple mere players. It would be a waste, and while it would showcase strength, it would not be sufficient reminder to show the individual prowess of their own individual skills. Besides, by keeping them in reserve, the threat of a World Item being unleashed would be more than sufficient to keep in check any foolish rabble stupid enough to cross with Ains Ooal Gown. No, instead, the armoury housed a range of Legendary Class and above weaponry, armour, potions and other miscellaneous items. Deadly in anyone's hands, and lethal in a skilled players. Those that would dare to oppose him, steal his mine, and undermine his Guild's hard work would suffer the consequences!

Accompanying him in the room was Ulbert, Touch Me and Peroroncino. Unfortunately, Hero-Hero wasn't able to log on until later, near the end of the assault, so he would hold the Guild Base when he did arrive, adding to its already immense fortifications.

Everyone in the room was equipping themselves with the most powerful weaponry they had, short of using World Items. Only Touch-Me would be equipping a World Item so that they had a means to repel the potential use of one. Of course, that was only speculation only, however, as the enemy guild lacked one to their knowledge. _Still never hurts to be prepared._

Once Ulbert had finished fully equipping several items, he called out to Momonga. "I'm going to go grab Demiurge of off the Seventh Floor. He has a couple useful tricks that we can employ against those bastards. We'll teleport to your location when we are done."

Momonga merely nodded as Ulbert used the Ring of Ains Ooal Gown to teleport away. They were just about done anyways, so they had a minute before they would attempt to teleport to Sygil.

Sygil. He was the last person that needed to be ready, and also the greatest unknown factor. He was ultimately unsure of how this attack would go, as all he had was the accounts from Touch-Me and Ulbert to go off of. Which was not much, but he trusted them, so he would give the newest addition a chance.

As if sensing his thoughts, Peroroncino put a hand on his shoulder. "It will be fine. If anything is sus about him, we will just put him under and move on. After all, this is meant to be a showcase of our strength and show that we are _not_ to be fucked with. Heh. I think, actually, by killing our enlisted help at the end we might be able to send an even greater message out."

Momonga snorted sarcastically in amusement. "And prevent any more potential outside help if we ever require it?"

"Are you saying we aren't good enough Momo?" Chuckled Peroroncino lightly, crossing his arms in mock hurt.

Momonga laughed lightly at the affectionate nick-name. "Not at all Peroroncino. And you do make a good point. I've sent the request to the developers, but it will probably take a couple of days before a response is granted. Until then, we'll just have to deal with it as it comes."

"Indeed," nodded Peroroncino.

The stood in silence for a moment, finishing their preparations, until Momonga finally spoke.

"I suppose it is time for use to begin making a move now. I'll teleport to our enlisted Mercenary and ensure he is organised. Feel free to join in when you are done," and with a flourish of his hand, he teleported away with the Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown.

Peroroncino stood there, looking at where his friend just stood a second ago, before allowing a small smile to creep on his real face. Momonga loved theatrics.

"We better join him. Make sure Ulbert joins us on time." Peroroncino looked at Touch-Me in amusement.

"How about you do so yourself? You two seem like real good friends."

Touch-Me's only response was to snort before he too teleported away to join Momonga and Sygil.

"And Peroroncino is left alone again. Ahhh, god I wish I had a real girl to love me right now and make me feel somewhat important," chuckled Peroroncino mirthlessly. "Ah well…." And with that, he too teleported away.

* * *

When Peroroncino arrived, he was greeted by the sight of Momonga chatting with Sygil about something, while Touch-Me loomed nearby.

Momonga turned to face Peroroncino, waving his fellow Heteromorph over.

"Glad to see you arrived," started Sygil, surprisingly.

If he was surprised by the cordiality Sygil expressed, Peroroncino didn't express it at all. "Not as much as I am that you did," retorted Peroroncino jokingly.

Before any further discussion could take place, Touch-Me cleared his voice. "Yes, well, I'd like for us to get a move on now instead of later. We are burning daylight after all."

While Sygil personally doubted that, he did agree with the sentiment. He personally wanted to get this job over as soon as possible so he could begin scrounging up resources in the safest, albeit one of the more stranger, ways possible.

Before anyone could continue or begin, Ulbert teleported back to Momonga. "I'm done. Let's go kick some ass, eh?"

Sygil could only stare in apprehension at his 'contractors'. _What the hell have I gotten into?_

"Ahem," coughed Momonga. "Perhaps we should make a move now? I'll open a portal near our destination, however since the mine has been taken, we will have to walk a good half league to our destination due to possible wards."

"Ohhhh fuuuck! Really Momonga," whined Peroroncino. "Tactically, it makes sound sense anyways," started Touch-Me. "We can have the element of surprise on our side until we are ready to engage." "For once I agree with you," concurred Ulbert in approval.

"Yes, well, first we need to actually get there. Now Sygil, you remember what you need to do?"

Sygil nodded in affirmation at Momonga's question. Even if it annoyed him.

"Excellent. Then if you would be so kind to all follow me," elaborated Momonga majestically. A portal akin to the one Touch-Me used suddenly appeared, and without further ado, Momonga vanished into it, followed shortly by Ulbert. Touch-Me beckoned for Sygil to enter, who emotionlessly stepped forth and entered.

On the other side, as he arrived, he was greeted by the edge of a twisted forest and the beginnings of a rocky, rust-coloured mountain wall. Upon closer inspection, a narrow winding path lead to the summit, where he deduced the entrance to the mine might lay. Regardless, it was a fair distance away, and the heavy canopy of the forest edge obstructed some of his view.

The forest itself was rather eerie, with the trees all sickly looking and twisted, with gnarled roots protruding from the earth like ruptured blisters. A worn stone path led deeper into the forest which became more and more dark and foreboding as he gazed deeper into it.

"Now that we are here, if you would be so kind as to take the lead Sygil?" He merely nodded his head at Momonga's request and began silently walking towards the mountain path, with the guild members trailing behind.

As they were walking, Momonga used message to talk with his companions.

_Momonga: Once Sygil clears the path ahead, I want to perform a localised scrying spell to find our enemies inside the mine. While I do that Ulbert, I want you to place our own traps at the mine entrance, replacing theirs if they have any._

_Ulbert: Sounds good to me._

_Touch-Me: Then once you are done, I will head down to the Treasury and lure any players into the smelting rooms._

_Momonga: Yes. However, let our resident mercenary pave the way first, or at least bait any opponents out. After all, I want to see for myself if he is of any use._

_Touch-Me: Fair enough._

Meanwhile with Sygil, he was on full alert. He was effectively in hostile territory and, even though it was just a game, he had to put his best effort in to avoid finding about real respawns the hard way, as well as to sufficiently impress and convince his potential allies into providing him information.

As he and the others approached the mountains, his military training from years prior began to kick in. Subconsciously, his hand flexed to grip an imaginary spiked chain, ready to materialise at a moment's notice. The chain would give him the ranged capacity to deal with potential ambushers. Because of the openness of the terrain, it was highly likely any defenders would engage at range. The spiked chain gave him the extended reach to engage, as well as lasso out for quick escape. He wasn't fully certain teleportation would work, though theoretically it should. Regardless, he was playing it safe. Well, as safe as he could given his circumstances.

Upon reaching the base of the footpath of the associated mountain, Momonga finally spoke up.

"I'm going to prepare a scrying spell to detect any players and other threats inside the base now that we are close enough. Cover me while I begin. That includes you as well Sygil."

It was a demand more than a simple ask, not that he was going to complain. While the guild-members apparently knew the layout of the mine, they lacked any current intel associated with specific numbers and locations of their foes.

Sygil found a nearby outcrop which gave him cover and range to use his spiked chain, whereas Ulbert and Touch-Me started casting defensive spells while equipping weapons. Peroroncino equipped some enchanted bow, from what Sygil could observe.

It took 30 seconds for the spell to be prepared, though perhaps Momonga was deliberately taking his time. Maybe to draw anyone out? Regardless, once the spell was cast, no-one appeared. Momonga seemed lost in thought, until he confidently proclaimed.

"There is no-one outside that I can detect, but keep on the lookout since some might be using higher tier items and spells to hide. There seems to be some enemies in the main entrance, and the numbers appear to increase with each descending level."

While Momonga said it to inform everyone, it was mostly aimed at Sygil who was going to be the point-man.

"Then let's get this show on the road." Proudly proclaimed Peroroncino.

Momonga nodded. "Umu. You take the air above and provide eyes for use. Sygil, you will enter the guild base. Ulbert will provide some support to deal with any heavy hitting players. You worry about thinning their numbers, traps and overall enemies. Once you draw their attention, Touch-Me and I will teleport directly into the lava lake below and work our way up to the Treasury and lure any players into the smelting rooms."

No further words were exchanged as everyone began moving to their objectives, clear determination and understanding of what was required. Within five minutes, everyone was in position, with Ulbert and Sygil at the mountain summit. Peroroncino was flying above, cloaked invisible by either an item or spell that Sygil was unaware of.

Sygil could see what looked like two large armoured skeletons, each equipped with a flamberge and large shield.

"Death Knights," stated Ulber bluntly. "Pretty low-Tier, around 30. So they should be easy for you to handle. Once you kill them and make some noise, we should be able to put the whole place on alert and draw other players and mobs out." Ulbert likely was smirking deviously. With a somewhat arrogant and extravagant sweeping gesture, he indicated towards the mine entrance and the two Death Knights. "All yours."

Sygil rolled his eyes, unimpressed. Peeking over the boulders they were taking cover behind, he observed his surroundings. The mine entrance was a cave with an intricate steel or other metallic ore supporting frame. The two Death Knights were situated just at the border of the entrance. There were no other defenders he could observe, so it was likely just the two, but based on past experience, he would not discount any hidden ambushers lying in wait.

Judging by their size, they appeared to possess a large gait, so manoeuvrability was probably not the greatest, instead relying on brute strength to hold and pin down an opponent. Being two of them, they were likely able to counter and cover each other better, so separately engaging them individually was ideal. The attack would have to be quick and concise, striking the weaker unguarded portions of their bodies. From where he was situated, however, he wouldn't be able to utilise surprise. A large open expanse before him and the two towering monstrosities would mean he would need to essentially rush them and cut them down. Ideally, Peroroncino should have engaged with his bow to strike them down from afar. Alas, Ains Ooal Gown wanted to evaluate his abilities, so he needed to do this on his own.

"You're more than welcome to engage any day now," snarked Ulbert, breaking his train of thought.

"I'm thinking," retorted Sygil.

He needed something loud and deadly, enough to draw the base's attention on to him so everyone else could do their job. After a couple more seconds to ponder over a course of action, Sygil sprung to his feet and began his charge. The battle for the Mines of Seraph had begun.

* * *

The response was instantaneous; the Death Knights instantly locked on to him and brought their shields up to defend themselves and drew their flamberges back. However, it was too late.

In an instant, he materialised a sabre in his left hand. As he gained ground and was almost upon them, he threw his Spiked Chain forward, the barbed blade instantly embedding itself in the head of the Death Knight who, remarkably, didn't budge at all.

With a quick flick, he tugged the chain towards himself, sending the Death Knight flying towards him. As it flew closer, he somersaulted in the air, twisting his body and by extension, his sabre, to gather as much momentum and therefore force needed to swing the damaging blow.

By the time the Knight's body arrived at him, he had done a complete 360 degree twist, and his sabre bore the fruits of his momentum. The blade cut neatly through the Death Knight's neck, and only through years of honed reflexes and enhanced supernatural skill did he successfully decapitate the Death Knight.

The Death Knight's relieved body went flying with the continued moment. As he landed on his feet, the second Death Knight roared ferociously, likely alerting the entire mine. It mattered not.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, he braced his legs to carry him forward in a roll to avoid the flamberge that was vertically sweeping down on his location.

With a resonating BOOM, the flamberge crashed into the ground where he was nought but a microsecond ago. Before the dust could settle, he finished his roll and was directly in front of the Death Knight, and in a flash, his sabre found its mark in the exposed ribcage of the towering behemoth, penetrating through its digitally rotting flesh and impaling itself through the head of undead monster.

The bladed remained in the beast's skull for a brief second before he gracefully retracted the blade and weaved out to the side of the collapsing Undead.

As he reeled in his spiked chain, he flicked the head off of the spike and surveyed his handiwork.

He barely got to enjoy it however, as a screeching wail from a rushing undead from within the dark mine entrance came rushing forth.

It was a skeleton by the looks of it, covered in tattered leather and armour. It wielded a bastard sword and was bearing for him. By reflex, he swung his sabre up to block the incoming blow, and a loud CLANG could be heard to reverberate within the mine entrance. That was when the trouble came.

The skeleton was followed by a literal small army of its other cousins, all armed similarly with a range of swords, pikes and battleaxes. There were no visible archers in the back ranks, but it was more than possible.

The skeleton retracted its blade to swing again, and Sygil seized his opportunity to end its pitiful virtual existence.

The rest of its brethren were getting closer and so Sygil swung his spiked chain, bisecting seven of the skeletons before it embedded in the wall. He realised the dilemma he faced; the spiked chain was too unwieldy and long in a cramped mine entrance, so he dissolved his connection with it, materialising a second sabre in his right hand to replace it.

The horde of undead was upon him. He swung his left sabre to parry an incoming skeletons sword strike before sidestepping a pike thrust by another, bring his right sabre in an upwards thrust to neatly decapitate the animated sack of bones.

Twisting his left sabre he relieved the parrying skeleton of its hands before impaling its skull with his right sabre. Slashing horizontally, he decapitated another skeleton before spinning to bisect another skeleton, its leather armour offering no protection against his unholy blades.

His movements were hard to observe, nought but a blur to the human eye, but beneath all of that madness there was a method.

Block, parry, deflect, sidestep, thrust, sidestep, duck, spin and relieve more of the undead of their weapons before finishing them.

Bones went flying, shields fell to the ground, blades twirling in a cacophony of steel fury. While the undead skeletons were of low quality, they were of higher quantity to make up for their apparent weaknesses. None of the undead could get past his defences, they were fortunate so as to be able to approach so closely.

He pushed forward, wary of the skeletons attempts to flank him. It mattered not, as they too were swiftly dealt with.

As he pushed deeper into the mine, thinning the ranks of the undead, he could see an amber glow ahead from an entrance at the end of the slowly descending tunnel he was in.

An arrow shot zipped past his ear, and in instinct he rolled out of the way, using the incoming remainders of the undead as (un)living shield to block from the arrows that were starting to be let loose upon him.

There were ten skeleton archers ahead of his intended destination, decked out with glowing magical armour and items by the look of things. Another volley of arrows was let loose upon his direction. While they missed their mark as he was too fast and nimble, they embedded in the backs of the melee based skeletons. They seemed to ignore the friendly fire however and kept relentlessly charging him.

There was only a small handful of remaining melee armed skeletons that were futilely attempting to swarm him.

One was carrying a broadsword and brought it down for an overhead strike. He parried by bringing his twin sabres into a closed X, catching the heavier blade in the temporary notch he made. Before the skeleton could perceive what was happening, he delivered a powerful kick into its exposed ribcage, sending it flying backwards in several pieces.

He ducked a horizontal swing by another skeleton and swept his left sabre to its exposed legs, cutting through and collapsing the skeleton onto its rear. It was still functioning, however, and made an attempt to crawl towards him. He responded by burying his blade into its skull. He met resistance from its helmet, but his strength proved greater.

The two remaining melee skeletons attempted to charge together, however he spun with both sabres in hand, slashing the two unfortunate undead soldiers across their chests before finishing with ramming his blades hilt deep into their exposed faces, thus killing them.

**RAAAAWHHHHHHR!**

He snapped his head in the direction of the sound. By the tunnel exit, just behind the skeleton archers, a Death Knight had arrived.

He couldn't help but smirk at such an easy opponent. Its two brethren back at the entrance were child's play, so this one shouldn't be too much of a problem.

He had to dodge out of the way of another volley of arrows. The arrows had barely hit the ground behind him when he started gunning for the Death Knight. The archers were in front of and he brandished his twin sabres as he rapidly closed the distance, intent on ending this fight. As he got closer, the archers had finished pulling an arrow out of their quivers and were starting to notch the arrows when he suddenly threw one of his sabres like a boomerang. The razor sharp blade arced through the air, cutting through several of the archers like paper. They barely hit the ground as he raced past them to the Death Knight. He could feel victory within his grasp.

The Death Knight swung its shield out at him, however he effortlessly weaved past it and brought his sabre up with the intent to impale the ugly motherfucker through its open helmet. His blade rushed forward as he thrust upwards.

CLANG!

With impossible speed unanticipated due to its immense size, the Death Knight brought its flamberge up to parry the incoming blade.

Sygil was surprised at the speed and accuracy of the undead's ability to parry such a threat. With strength befitting such a monstrosity, the Death Knight brought its flamberge down in an attempt to disarm its opponent. He had no choice but to let the beast pull him and his sword down to avoid losing his grip, resulting in his right shoulder and portion of his back being exposed. The Death Knight took complete advantage of this weakness, and smashed its shield with tremendous force into Sygil, sending him flying metres into the air and crashing onto his back.

The Death Knight threw back its head and bellowed out another roar, before slowly stomping forward towards Sygil.

He jumped back on his feet and had to duck another arrow that was shot his way. The Death Knight started to pick up its pace as it started to charge towards him. It mercilessly swung its flamberge and cut down a skeleton archer in its way, before shield bashing another one, sending chunks of bone flying. It cared not for its allies, only for the death of its sole opponent before him.

Sygil stood up and took a defensive stance with his single sabre, prepared to face the onslaught.

Just as the Death Knight was upon him, he summoned two shadow-hounds from behind. The Death Knight barely got another foot down as the hounds pounced from behind, ignoring its armour and tearing straight into the monstrosity.

Surprised by the sudden attack from behind, the Death Knight blindly swung its shield out in an attempt to knock its new opponents off its back while it kept the pace of its charge.

But it was more than enough of a distraction for Sygil to sieze.

With the Death Knight's shield arched behind it, its body was exposed. All he had to do was avoid being parried by the huge sword it wielded.

He weaved under the huge flamberge and brought his sabre up, aiming for the unarmoured flesh of its shield arm at the joint. His strike was surgical and precise, and the Knight's arm, and subsequently shield, fell off.

He had to keep moving forward to avoid the incoming strike of its flamberge. The Death Knight brought its momentum to an instantaneous halt to attempt to hit its opponent.

If he were a weaker or lesser being, the incoming strike would have hit him, but alas it did not.

Twisting around, he ducked under the diagonal strike and chopped off its other arm. An arrow impacted onto the Death Knight's breast plate, reminding Sygil of the skeleton archers remaining.

He ignored them for now, however, as he focused on finishing off the armless undead before him.

Its arm barely hit the ground as he brought his sabre up at neck level and horizontally swung.

The Death Knight might have been armless, but it was not entirely stupid, and it flicked its head to the side, exposing its armoured helmet to the incoming blade.

While the skeletons had weak armour, the Death Knight's armour was of a different calibre, and his blade, instead of striking rotten virtual flesh, cut into the helmet instead. The blade imbedded itself into the metal, refusing to cut any further, causing Sygil to raise an eyebrow.

The shadow-hounds, however, took advantage of the still target and exposed rotten face, and viciously tore into it.

Either the Death Knight didn't notice or didn't care, but it focused on moving its stumps for arms to try and crush Sygil. It was futile however, as Sygil quickly pulled his sabre from its helmet and spun faster than its arms could collide with his body.

He completed his spin by swinging his sabre into the Death Knight's exposed neck and finally decapitated it, sending its head flying. Its limbs went limp and it fell to its knees before slumping over, officially dead.

An arrow whistled through the air to Sygil, who quickly deflected it with the broader face of his sabre. _Slower than a bullet, that's for sure._

A second arrow was fired his way which he easily avoided. He quickly approached the two remaining skeletons and with a quick flourish of his sabre cut one down. The remaining skeleton backed away in an attempt to gain more distance to fire an arrow, but he merely recalled his other sabre that he had previously thrown.

The sabre went flying through the air back to Sygil, impaling itself in the remaining skeleton.

Sygil grabbed the skeleton roughly by the shoulder and spun it around. The skeleton attempted to resist, and surprisingly it was quite strong, but it mattered not. He grabbed the blade impaled in its chest by the handle, and swiftly decapitated it with his free sabre, before roughly pulling the other sabre from its ribcage, letting the skeleton crumple to the ground in a heap of bones.

After glancing around cautiously, he deemed there to be no immediate threats, so he began walking towards to the nearby exit where the amber light glow was.

As he got closer, he realised the glow was from the mine itself. Stepping out of the tunnel, Sygil was greeted with a massive cave clearing as wide around as a football field and twice as deep as the length of one.

The amber glow was from molten ores being poured into large vats by an automated, but crude, conveyor system at the bottom of the pit.

A steel, grated rail and walkway encompassed the entire 'pit', with stairs at intervals which descended down to the smelting and conveyor systems.

"It's impressive, isn't it."

Sygil wheeled around, sabres drawn, to face the speaker.

"Friendly, remember." Ulbert put his hands up in mock surrender.

"What are you doing here?"

"Following you, remember. You're meant to take the brunt of everything so I can deal with any high ranked players. Peroroncino is locked in a 1v2, but he'll win. Momonga and Touch-Me have teleported down to the lava bed three floors down."

"Uh-huh." Sygil nodded.

"Gotta admit though, I was surprised to see undead here as the defenders. Seraph is a holy guild. Or rather a bastardised offshoot of Seraphim." Ulbert muttered that last part to himself.

"So there shouldn't be undead here?" Sygil quirked an eyebrow.

"Mostly." Ulbert explained further, sensing Sygil's apprehension.

"They likely turned our guild's old defences and POP spawns and low tier summons to work for them once they stole this place. The undead you dealt were likely the first defence, though far from the most dangerous."

As Sygil took that in, Ulbert slowly looked around before facing Sygil again.

"Shall we go and explore this place?" Sygil picked up on the undertone, and bowed courteously before Ulbert, donning a cunning smirk.

"But of course. Allow me to lead the way."

The two walked down the stairs and headed towards the bottom of the pit to where the conveyors and furnaces were.

As they drew closer, Sygil could make out tens of figures bustling about and manning the various equipment. They seemed to ignore the two players, favouring on working to smelt and move the ores, acting as if they were on autopilot.

They were nearly at the bottom of the pit, when a booming voice called out.

"So. Here are more rats, come scavenging for some 'easy' pickings, huh. When will you noobs learn, you dumb cunts can't take what Seraph wants."

Sygil instantly felt like gutting the condescending voice that spoke. The only problem was, he couldn't see where the voice originated from.

Ulbert retorted. "It wasn't exactly easy for you to steal our mine, so I don't think you have boasting rights."

Sygil sensed, rather than saw, the attack aimed to relieve the two of them of their heads. Fortunately Ulbert also detected the incoming sword strike and jumped back also. They both faced their assailant.

He was dressed in white armour, similar to Touch-Me's, but far less bulky and lacking the cape.

"Oh? So you owned this mine previously? A mere level 30, alongside a what, level 5 scrub?" The player seemed apprehensive, looking, what Sygil assumed pointedly, at him.

"Highly unlikely."

Sygil didn't know what the specific plan was, but he most certainly approved of Ulbert's.

"[Fireball]".

The enemy player didn't even have a chance to dodge to incoming attack spell, instead erupting into flames.

"AH FUCK!" The battle was on.

Sygil summoned his Spiked Chain and lashed out at the player, snagging him (he assumed it was a he) around the waste and thus keeping him trapped.

Ulbert capitalised on the hapless player. "[Magic Arrow]".

The spell hit the player dead-on the chest, but failed to eliminate him.

Sygil and Ulbert were just about to finish him off, when suddenly a large halberd came swiping down at Sygil.

Not having time to block, Sygil was forced to jump back, but subsequently let go of his Spiked Chain, allowing the player to get free and proceed to get up close and personal with Ulbert.

Sygil looked at his new opponent. It was an Angel. A bloody. Fucking. Angel. Lady luck apparently wanted to shit on him these days.

The Angel was covered head to toe with enchanted, silver and golden armour. An open helmet exposed an artistically crafted, regal face, and two plumes of brilliant white feathers adorned two large wings which were nearly as large as he was. In his hand was a large halberd that emitted a faint blue glow.

As the Angel slowly started to circle Sygil, he summoned his Katana and gripped the hilt with both hands, keeping his eyes trained on him the whole time.

He could hear Ulbert fighting the other player, as evidenced by the sound of magic, explosions, expletives and the occasional physical clash of steel.

The Angel suddenly jumped in the air, utilising its wings to gain height and speed, before plummeting down at Sygil with its halberd.

Sygil parried the first strike, but with incredible dexterity, the Angel spun around and silently cast a minor explosive spell, sending Sygil off flying over some nearby rails.

Sygil plummeted down onto a conveyor belt, where he got a closer look at who, or what, the mine workers were.

They appeared to be angelic beings, judging by the white wings and flawless white clothes. However, they showed no sign of aggression or even any reaction at all to his presence which was likely disrupting the current working environment.

_If they don't want to fight, then fine by me. Less opponents to deal with._

The Angel suddenly leapt down with its halberd overhead. Sygil, in response to the incoming threat, backflipped onto his feet a metre behind where he was a second ago, avoiding the halberd that came crashing down.

He brought his katana up to parry a horizontal sweep, but the Angel was skilled and spun its halberd to try and slash his exposed legs from under. However, Sygil was also skilled and was quick to parry the halberd again.

This fast-paced blur of a spinning halberd being parried by a katana continued for a good 20 seconds, with no opening being made available.

Sygil finally got the upper hand as the halberd came sweeping across. He parried it with his katana, hooking both blades and then twisting his arm to force the halberd blade to be lowered point-first onto the ground.

While he was temporarily exposed, so was the Angel, and he capitalised on it first.

He summoned his sabre in his free hand, before somersaulting over the locked blades and landing directly in front of his opponent, bringing his sabre crashing down into the Angel's chest. Or at least that would have happened had the angel not suddenly grabbed his sabre hand by the wrist to stop its premature death.

It had a vice-like grip, and before he could react, it started to cast a spell.

"[Holy Flame; Maximum Effe-]", however, before the Angel could finish its spell, he head-butted it straight in the face, temporarily preventing it from finishing the spell.

He used that opportunity to free his katana and perform a sweeping upwards slash. However, the Angel refused to let that happen, instead twisting Sygil's wrist in an attempt to bend him over. As the angel twisted, it kneed Sygil in the stomach, and then swept its leg from under Sygil's feet, knocking him to the ground.

The Angel then hoisted its halberd over its head, switching to a reverse grip to prepare a finishing blow.

Realising his opponent was quite serious and skilled, Sygil summoned several shadow-spikes from the nearby shadows to directly impale the Angel.

While the shadows failed to penetrate the Angel's high stats and enchanted armour, they were more than enough to unbalance the Angel and knock some HP off of it.

Sygil used the opportunity to slip out of the Angel's grasp, bounce back up on his feet, and start pushing the offensive with his Katana and sabre combined.

The Angel was suddenly on the defensive, under an onslaught of blurring sword strikes that were slowly chipping away its defense. However, the strikes were difficult to land due to the Angel's skills with the halberd. Even when he was able to land the odd strike, it did minimal damage.

_Tch. I have to remove this bastards weapon._

Seeing he was going no-where with the offensive, and he was in an unfavourable environment, Sygil wanted to fall back and better reorganise himself. However, if he did that, his opponent would get some breathing space. So he quickly went over his options.

He had a demonic seal on the top of his left hand which, when activated, would grant his weapons active unholy abilities, and therefore likely give him a literal cutting edge to bypass his opponent. By default, all of his weapons, save his guns, only had passive unholy abilities, i.e., they could bypass the flesh of a holy entity and a non-lethal strike could kill if an unholy infection. Armour was too difficult to reliably bypass.

However, he would need to cease his attack and perform the ritual quickly. While the ritual only took several seconds at most, it would be more than enough time for the Angel to press the attack again, and he didn't have the time, nor cover to safely perform the ritual.

There were also too many variables. Would the ritual even activate or, like his guns, would it short out on him? There was no guarantee it would, and even if it did, would it actually give him the extra edge needed?

He took in his surroundings, and realised they were near some mine entrance, however, he didn't let that stop his flurry of aggressive strikes.

The Angel held the halberd like a staff and was using both ends to block and parry the incoming sword strikes with unparalleled efficiency. Suddenly, the Angel somersaulted backwards out of range of Sygil's swords, landing gracefully on its feet whilst twirling its halberd.

Not wanting to lose his advantage, Sygil instantly summoned three shadow-hounds to pursue and rip apart his opponent. They were summoned instantly and started gunning for their adversary just as quickly.

They were in the mine shaft now which, while large enough to fit three people side-by-side and four metres high, was not large enough for the Angel to take advantage of its wings and make an escape via flying away. The Angel had no choice but to defend.

As the first hound came upon him, he sidestepped its pounce and brought his halberd down to expertly cut it. The blade, however, only predictably passed through the smoky shadows. If the Angel was surprised or even cared, it didn't show it, instead swinging its halberd up to defend against the second hound that had now arrived.

The hound's teeth snapped shut onto the blade of the halberd as the Angel was left face-to-face with the unholy beast. However, the third shadow-hound had arrived.

While its second counterpart was locked against the halberd, it swiftly targeted the Angel's exposed legs like a predatory, hoping to cripple its opponent.

The Angel had no time to react as the hound viciously latched onto its leg, and the buckling of steel could be heard as its teeth attempted to penetrate the holy armour.

The first hound, having circled back, pounced on the angel's exposed wings, hungrily tearing in to them.

The Angel could be heard letting out a grunt as it briefly curled up before throwing its arms wide and casting a holy spell.

"[Light of God; Expulsion of Darkness]!"

A flash of white light could be seen, and suddenly a shockwave could be felt as the shadow-hounds were flung off of their prey.

"You are full of tricks, aren't you." The tone was that of amusement, as if finding something to be cute.

Sygil stared inquisitively at where the voice came from.

"Did you just speak," he instantly chided himself for asking an NPC a non-game related question, not expecting an answer, but then.

"I believe so."

The hounds were no longer stunned and began circling their opponent whilst remaining more wary.

The Angel suddenly adopted a straighter stance, defensive, but directed at Sygil.

"I felt something was off the moment I detected your presence."

_Is this just a scripted speech, or is this thing actually speaking to me?_

"You are not natural; you don't emit a presence like the other players. You are an anomaly." The Angel's voice was hardened, and Sygil only merely scrutinised his glare back harder.

"What makes you say that," _I'm having a conversation with an AI. I hope no-one thinks I'm insane._

The Angel let loose a low chuckle. "We are having this conversation. We cannot talk with players outside of our prescribed directives of what we are expected to respond with, since their presence is so overwhelming. You, however, don't have that presence, at least, not completely."

Sygil, however, was using this lull in the battle to pull his left glove off, exposing his demonic seal.

Placing his right hand on top of the strange black tattoo, Sygil began to activate the seal.

A red crimson glow suddenly emitted from his seal. Sygils swords started to cackle with faint red electricity, before fading to just a slight red glow.

He could feel the dark power radiating within his body and his weapons. The Angel before him would be at his mercy now.

"So," started Sygil, "let's finish this shall we?"

The NPC before him didn't even respond, instead casting an offensive spell.

"[Maximise Holy Fire]".

A beam of white fire/light shot towards Sygil, who expertly used his shadows to teleport away and apparate behind the Angel.

Before the Angel could respond, Sygil slashed his swords horizontally across the Angel. The Angel, however, quickly brought its halberd to defend itself, blocking the incoming strikes. However, it was left exposed to the hounds now, which wasted no time assaulting the hapless NPC.

In an effort to save itself, the Angel cast "[Light of God; Expulsion of Darkness]". It was enough to at least get the hounds off of it, but Sygil was still locking blades with it.

However, Sygil could still vaguely feel the spell as it went through his body, specifically his already injured shoulder.

Regardless, it wasn't able to hinder him, so he kept pressing forth, using sheer strength to overpower the Angel.

Seeing that it was currently in a losing fight, the Angel desperately tried to back off and head to the more open and exposed smelting room that they were in originally.

The Angel leapt as high as it could in the enclosed tunnel and used its wings to propel itself backwards, and at wicked speeds, it flew out of the tunnel. Sygil, however, was not too keen on losing his prey just yet, and he quickly summoned his Spiked Chain, lashing it out at the retreating Angel.

The chain lassoed around the Angel's neck, quickly jerking the retreating NPC back. Sygil quickly ran and jumped into the air, drop-kicking the Angel in mid-air.

As both crashed to the ground, an explosion could be heard going off.

When Sygil glanced in the direction, he saw Touch-Me and Momonga duking it out between two other players, while Peroroncino helped mop up some of the other NPCs from the air. Ulbert was finishing executing his opponent, and all around him, a range of colours and noises flashed in and out as various spells, buffs and debuffs were cast.

He, however, wasn't quite finished with his opponent.

Brandishing his Spiked Chain and sabre, Sygil stalked towards the Angel, his shadow-hounds forming up at his heel, never straying too far.

The Angel was already on its feet, brandishing its halberd too continue the fight. A voice suddenly rang out, capturing his attention briefly.

"How the hell are you still alive? You're bloody Level 5?!" It was Ulbert's opponent. Apparently, he had evaded Ulbert and was hanging back, directing several low-tier Angel NPCs, not like the one Sygil was currently fighting.

Ulbert stepped forth in front of the player. "Oh, that, well its simple," Ulbert suddenly removed a ring from on his finger, revealing his true stats and skill levels for everyone to bear witness to.

The angel player suddenly stepped back.

"What?! You're level 100?! But-but…." "But nothing. You've been played like the fool you are. Now, just like any fool, you will meet your end early. [Magic Arrow; Maximise]".

The spell shot forth and hit the player in the face, sending him flying backwards. The angelic NPC's he was commanding, however, instantly took flight and started to swarm Ulbert, who started to fend them off.

Sygil made a move to intervene, when suddenly the Angel he had been fighting appeared before, halberd at the wide, ready to strike. A cold voice spoke, loud enough for only Sygil to hear.

"Your fight's with me, remember," then the halberd came striking down.

Sygil parried with his sabre, but his Spiked Chain was too close to be of any real use, and the Angel decided to try and use that against him. With a free hand, the Angel grabbed the blade of the Spiked Chain, showing no obvious damage from it, and roughly tugged on it in an attempt to disorient and unbalance Sygil. While Sygil internally applauded the effort, it was useless, as he instantly dematerialised it, bringing his fist straight into the Angel's face.

The Angel staggered back, but before it could even react, Sygil grabbed the halberd with his free hand and quickly shoved it like a staff into the Angel's stomach to further disorient it.

Because of the Angel's higher stats, the attack didn't work, but Sygil regardless followed it through by freeing his sword from the halberd, and with a mighty strike from his sabre blade, struck the Angel's hand grasping the halberd.

Somehow, by some mechanic, luck or maybe skill, the Angel released its hold on the halberd, and when it did, the halberd vanished, leaving its user currently weapon-less, though not necessarily defenceless.

"[Greater Hardening]". Sygil's sword struck the Angel's torso, and while it failed to slice through the armour, especially due to the spell, his sword did manage to embed itself into its armour. The Angel, somehow, emitted an emotion of surprise, even though its facial features did not noticeably change. Sygil could somehow detect the slight shift in atmosphere, as if the NPC Angel before him were emitting real human emotions.

He discarded those thoughts and quickly summoned a second sabre in his free hand and rammed the blade a hard as he could into the Angel's exposed face.

While the blade was now enhanced, glowing a faint red due to the ritual, it still failed to bypass the Angels armour, or in this case magical aura or protection field, Sygil didn't know which. However, it must have done some damage, as the Angel's entire body produced a faint red flash from the impact.

He swung his sabre again, hitting the angel in the shoulder, and again the red flash occurred, with the Angel noticeably grunting as if something was painful.

He didn't know whether or not the grunts were real or just automated, but he could hazard a guess that it was taking damage, and sooner or later it would give, and so he proceeded to rapidly hack away at the Angel.

The vicious assault was too fast for the Angel to counter effectively, especially without a weapon, and so it was helpless against Sygil.

It didn't take long for Sygil to wear it down to the point it collapsed on its knees, completely at the mercy of its assailant. Sygil rested both sabres in an X across the Angel's neck, ready to deliver the finishing blow.

Ulbert, who had finished dealing with the summoned angelic NPCs, glanced over at Sygil.

"Nice one! Now. Finish it off and we can deal with the last remaining players."

Sygil didn't even hesitate, after all, it was but a mere game for him. Instead of a headless corpse rolling on to the ground, the Angel instead disintegrated into a dozen blue crystal orbs which floated to him and appeared to be 'absorbed'.

He didn't have time to ponder over what just happened as he saw a flash of colourful lights exploding near Momonga and Touch-Me.

He wasn't sure how the magic system and defences of Yggdrasil players operated, but theoretically he assumed Touch-Me and Momonga would have been blown back and taken some damage. As the smoke cleared, however, the two players hadn't even budged, showing no signs of damage. Momonga suddenly let out a chuckle.

"That was so weak of an attack, fufufufu."

The assailant was the very player that Ulbert had been previously battling.

"Tch. You bastard!"

Ulbert let out a sinister chuckle at the players misfortune. "Hehehehe, you seem pretty unnerved. First time playing?"

The player let out a low growl at the taunt.

Sygil slowly moved closer to the Player's position, ready to defend and intercept any attack on his contractors.

The player, he observed, was slowly inching towards Momonga, an amateurish battle stance adopted.

_Is this idiot actually going to attempt an attack? He should retreat, the battle is lost. Unless…_

Sygil realised what the player's likely intent was.

There was no time to reach the player, but he could intercept the attack that the player was rapidly charging up. He couldn't believe what he was doing, but he needed his contractors to potentially remain undamaged, so by acting as a living shield, he would fall better into their good graces, hopefully. He just hoped it didn't kill him for real. _One way to find out_.

Time seemed to slow down as an explosion of white magic erupted from the player, and with a sudden screech, the player rapidly charged at Momonga and Touch-Me's position at unrealistic speeds, almost as if teleporting.

With his sabres bared, Sygil rushed to shadow teleport and intercept the attack.

He had barely just teleported before the suicidal player when he felt him collide into his blades, screaming fanatically.

Sygil could feel a rapid build-up of heat and energy, before the player locked with him literally exploded violently, bathing the immediate area in blinding white light.

When the light finally faded, there was nothing but a large scorch-mark where Sygil was standing. Sygil's blades had dissipated, though not of his own volition. The explosion of holy magic had destroyed his twin sabres, and he could feel a light burning sensation coursing throughout his body.

He slowly withdrew, standing tall, while Momonga nonchalantly mused.

"Hmm, [Holy Bomber]. A 5th Tier holy spell." He shook his head in disappointment. "Did he really think such a weak spell would harm me, or Touch-Me? Or that his suicide would do something? What an idiot."

Sygil internally winced. _Wow, that's harsh._

Touch-Me directed his attention towards Sygil as Peroroncino and Ulbert gathered around.

"Regardless of how unnecessary your protection was, I thank you for your selfless attempted sacrifice. Such a show devotion and loyalty, especially towards someone you don't know is commendable."

_Devotion? Loyalty? No, I need you to like me so I can get what I need with as little grief as possible._ He, of course, didn't voice that out loud, however.

Momonga was contemplating the situation, and was honestly weighing up Peroroncino's earlier suggestion to terminate Sygil. However, with his selfless act, he had proven some level of integrity, so killing him could be problematic, and likely non-beneficial. Still…..

**You have a new message from: Yggdrasil Development Team**

_Huh, what's this?_

As Ulbert, Touch-Me, Peroroncino and Sygil interacted, he decided to open up the new message.

**Hello Momonga,**

**We, as the Development Team of Yggdrasil, take great pride in providing the most secure, safe and fun environment for players to enjoy. As such, we take any and all inquests concerning cheating and inappropriate behaviour seriously.**

**In light of your recent submission concerning player username: - Sygil Amadeus- , we have investigated the account records and activity.**

**It is to our great delight and reassurance that, in light of our findings, we announce that player username: - Sygil Amadeus- , has been found to contain a clean account with no suspicious records or account activity.**

**We thank you for your vigilance in actively identifying potential system abusers. We hope you will continue to enjoy your Yggdrasil experience and look forward to hearing from you again in the future.**

**Sincerely**

\- **Yggdrasil Development Team**

He had to re-read the message again to confirm the findings of the development team. While he was somewhat surprised, and secretly relieved, at the findings of the development team, he was doubly so surprised at the speed of the response from the developers.

_This came back within the day. Normally, this should take three days to a week._

Regardless, he was relieved, but it also meant he had less of a reason to kill Sygil.

_Considering what he did for us, as well as his selflessness, I suppose we can spare him and utilise his services._

He decided to speak to his fellow guild-members through the private message system without Sygil listening in. While the developers were annoying at times, they were seldom wrong when convicting a player of illicit behaviour or conduct.

_Momonga: Can you guys hear me?_

_Peroroncino: Loud as a doorbell Momo._

_Momonga: Good. I just got a message back from the devs._

_Ulbert: Really? _

_Momonga: Yeah. It's concerning Sygil_

_Touch-Me: Well, that was quick._

_Momonga: Yes. They checked him out._

_Ulbert: And?_

_Momonga: He's clear. No suspicious account activity. Perfectly clean._

_Peroroncino: Still, that's pretty quick. Are you sure they are right?_

_Momonga: Well, that's what I wanted to ask you guys about. I didn't see him fight too much, so you'll have to be the final judge about that._

_Ulbert: Well, he was pretty consistent. He dealt with the Death Knights and trash mobs pretty easily enough. Once he got to the Mid-Tier Angel, he experienced some difficulties, I think, but I didn't get to see and focus on the whole fight. He won, though._

_Peroroncino: So? It was probs a trash mob, wasn't it?_

_Touch-Me: Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe it was around a level 60 NPC._

_Ulbert: Seems about right._

_Momonga: Well, if you didn't notice anything suspicious, then I suppose he is innocent._

_Peroroncino: So what do we do with him?_

_Momonga: Since he did do his part, and isn't cheating, we give him what he wants._

_Ulbert: It might be difficult, though, since he isn't a guild member, one of us would have to be with him at all times._

_Touch-Me: And unfortunately, I have a pretty long shift coming up this week, so I won't be able to log on at all._

_Peroroncino: Same._

_Touch-Me: Well, how about….._

_Ulbert: How about what?_

_Touch-Me: Regardless of what we suspected, he did attempt to stop a suicide attack, no matter how weak, by jumping directly in-front of it. That does warrant some recognition._

_Peroroncino: So, you think we should give him an immunity item from the NPC's?_

Momonga could be heard chuckling.

_Touch-Me: I'm not saying anything, but I think maybe we could grant him a membership deal. Besides, no-one else logs on anymore. Speaking of which, where is Hero-Hero?_

_Momonga: I don't know. He said he was busy and he would join us later._

_Ulbert: Back to the matter at hand, membership deal?_

_Touch-Me: I'm not saying anything. But we should recognise his efforts. Plus, he's not guilty of cheating, from what we're seeing._

_Momonga: I agree with Touch-Me. And indeed, he did make an effort to 'save' some of us, when clearly he has no real reason to._

_Peroroncino: Maybe he's desperate?_

_Touch-Me: Well, in order for us to honour our end of the deal, we need to grant him access to our library. How about we instead offer him a chance to join Ains Ooal Gown, and in exchange for continued access to our library, he can perform mercenary work for us?_

_Ulbert: It would save us a lot of gold and resources from creating mercenary NPCs. I think it would be okay, considering he's clear for cheating._

_Momonga: I can agree with that._

_Peroroncino: Sure, whatever._

_Momonga: Then it is decided. All we need to do now is to ask if he agrees to it._

* * *

Sygil was standing off to the side, casually inspecting the nearby mining equipment and smelting furnaces when Momonga suddenly called out.

"Sygil!"

Sygil turned to face Momonga and his group, walking back to them.

"Yes?"

"We have a proposition for you….."


	7. Light, the Creator of Life

******Disclaimer at start of first Chapter. Again, though, I do NOT own any of the rights Overlord and its respective content.******

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**To my readers, I'm glad my story seems interesting and enjoyable so far.**

**To G77471164: I'm glad you like my story so far, and you have a wonderful day too!**

**To Dan05: I'm glad you enjoy it so far, and thanks for the feedback. I have gone back to Chapter 6 to edit that pesky line, so again thank you for your Eagle-Eye! I try my best to be accurate, referring to the Wiki and anime, but if I make a mistake again, let me know. Cheers!**

**Again, don't be afraid to provide feedback to help me improve! It is very much appreciated, no matter what your feedback is.  
**

* * *

**Suggested age rating: T**

\- Some strong language

* * *

**Light, the Creator of Life**

Two months had passed since he had accepted the proposition. During that time, he had uncovered a great deal many things, though they more times than not left burning questions of their own.

He hadn't seen Hero-Hero since their initial encounter, and Touch-Me and Ulbert rarely ever logged on. Peroroncino had logged on only once, and the only other person that frequented was the guild-master Momonga himself. Not that it was of too much concern himself.

During the time since he had logged on, he had undertaken several tasks to help benefit the guild. In the process, he had managed to build his rank up to Level 80, expanding on his 'Heteromorph' class stats and skills. Frankly, he cared little for the process. It was but a by-product of his actions, and it didn't hinder him, so it was ultimately inconsequential as far as he was concerned.

While he initially thought nothing of his rank-up process and the speed which he had accomplished it so far, he had learnt through careful trialling and experimentation, his real-life skills and supernatural attributes as a real demon had to an extent carried over to the game. This was most notable in his weapons, or at least the ones he was permissible to wield in Yggdrasil.

His personal weapons contained an unholy aura due to their supernatural imbuements, and as such they easily compared to and rivalled many of the higher class Yggdrasil weapons in terms of strength and penetration. As he had ranked up, his weapons were more easily able to bypass and penetrate higher class armour and even some weapons. However, the drawback was he couldn't customise or upgrade them. Additionally, they were not able to bypass or severely negate some special items or enchantments. However, since he only mostly dealt with opponents under level 80, this wasn't too much of a concern for him. However, he still had no idea how his weapons would stack up against someone at level 100. Though, he was not overly worried about that ever happening.

From what Momonga told him, strength and stats exponentially grew with each level. A level 2 NPC was twice as strong as a level 1 NPC, and a level 3 NPC was twice as strong as a level 2 NPC, at least in theory. By that standard, he could somewhat understand the initial scepticism concerning his feats as a Level 1 defeating a group of Level 40's, though he stood by his conclusion that they utilised poor communication and failed to coordinate and cooperate properly.

What contributed the most to his fast rank-up was the fact he had successfully defeated several foes many levels higher than him, and he was therefore able to skip through some of the earlier levels. As he ranked higher, it took longer for him to rank up.

Another thing he had learnt was that while he could rank up, he was not privy to many stats and skills since his racial status was ultimately unknown, or indecisive, whichever it was. Honestly, he didn't care too much. Though, it did make some of his in-game assignments either interesting, or frustrating. So instead, he mostly applied his actual demonic skills he had inherited before.

His holy infection had not spread at all, remaining in limbo while he was in-game, much to his relief. Essentially, he had plenty of time to research and find a solution, as well as resolve any other dilemmas. The problem was the sheer quantity of information provided. Any spare time he had was spent researching how to resolve his infection.

The research was going well, and he originally supposed it was mundane, however he discovered something which made him doubly cautious and even concerned.

While he actively avoided leaving the in-game world of Yggdrasil as it prolonged his life without holy infection and granted him more time to find a solution, there were the odd times he did have to leave the game, and when he did, he noticed an immediate effect. Some of the skills and attributes he had acquired in Yggdrasil were, to a limited extent, transferred into his real-life body outside of the game. For instance, performance enhancing abilities within Yggdrasil which increased speed, strength and agility were able to be applied within the real world. However, they were more like an after-shadow effect, and only temporary, lasting a couple hours at most. Actual fantasy-related skills were not applicable.

Another major concern was when he did leave the holy injury of his would flare up with even more intensity than the last time, being more painful and long-lasting. It was almost as if the injury were slowly compounding on itself. Ultimately, though, it didn't appear to be progressing any worse, so that was a relief_. Unlike the NPC's reaction_.

That was another baffling concern of his.

The NPC's failed to act like a typical AI would dictate them to. Or at least when they were around him.

Whenever Momonga or any of the other guild-members were around, the NPCs behaved rigidly and with absolute loyalty, as if they were almost sensing a sensation of enjoyment from serving them. It also had a name as far as he was concerned. Fanaticism. However, around him, it was almost as if they seemed to show subtle signs of actual life, outside of the bound perimeters of their programming. The NPC's would always seem to be subtly watching or glaring at him when presented an opportunity. Or maybe he was just being paranoid. Either way, it didn't disillusion him from the fact that he didn't exactly feel welcomed by the NPCs.

Momonga said that by him becoming a member of the guild, the NPC's should stop behaving with hostility around him, allowing him to act unimpeded. It was true that the open hostility was gone, but it was instead replaced with caution, or wariness. Maybe he was just overanalysing things. He seemed to spend most of his life inside this virtual world. And frankly, he enjoyed it more than the real world in some ways. For obvious reasons such as his limbo injury, and the fact the Holy Order wouldn't be able to easily pursue him. But also because of how relatively peaceful and simple life was now. In some ways it was sickening, having spent what felt like a lifetime constantly fighting and killing, and being stuck in dark, twisted deals and plans of others. But here, he daresay he felt free.

He wondered how other players such as Momonga felt, now that he actually thought about it. They didn't have as much of a luxury for freedom as he did, being confined to a set job, four walls and a virtual reality to stay entertained. In ways it made him feel old, as he remembered, vaguely, some of his childhood memories from a long time ago.

The memories were foggy and somewhat difficult to recall, having been stained with so many more violent memories dating to the present. But what little he did remember of his childhood was it was far from as depressing as what people nowadays were going through. At least he didn't spend his childhood strapped to a virtual reality box. He remembered enjoying the fresh air, when it was still fresh.

Regardless, he was content. He felt content to live his life in this false reality for the time being. It felt like a much needed holiday, and he was planning on enjoying it while he studied different concepts. Besides, it wasn't like the game was going to be shut down or crash anytime soon. He subconsciously chuckled at his predicament.

_Indeed. What does Momonga actually think of all of this?_

He barely finished his train of thought when a voice interrupted. "Hello Sygil. It's good to see you again."

_Ah. Speak of the devil._

"Indeed, Guild-master." He spared a glance in the Liche's direction.

"You have work for me?"

Momonga seemed to pause for a second, and due to the avatar limitations, it was difficult for Sygil to acquire a proper psychological read on him to interpret what mix of emotions Momonga was experiencing until he spoke again.

"No. Not for a bit anyway. You have made a bit of a name for yourself now. You know that?"

Sygil merely shook his head gently. "No. Not at all. I don't spend much of my time browsing the forums and such. So I'm not the most up to date person."

Momonga nodded slowly before adding sombrely. "I see." Before Sygil could question any further, Momonga seemed to perk up more cheerily. "Do you want to increase your rank even further without more grinding?"

Sygil nodded cautiously. While there wasn't much Momonga could do to actually harm in the real life, he still wanted to be wary of any and all people, just as a safety precaution. "Maybe."

Either Momonga ignored Sygil's scepticism or didn't care. "Good. We're gonna get you to build your own NPC's."

"…."

"…."

"I'm sure I don't follow. Why do I need to build my own NPCs. I'm perfectly content just to read your extensive library, which, by the way, has so much reading material. Is this where the Alexander Library went after it was burnt down? Jesus Christ!"

"The what now?"

"Nevermind, Momonga."

"Well, Yamaiko-sama was always infatuated with our library. She was always adding stuff to it and porting over information from the internet. Anything and everything, it would seem."

Momonga seemed to speak more softly as he remembered another member that he hasn't seen log in for a long time, before speaking more seriously.

"Anyways. Do you want me to show you how? It should help you rank up. You will have to invest some resources in to it, but Nazarick has plenty of resources for you to choose from."

Sygil quirked an eyebrow. Momonga had long become desensitised to the perceived facial animations.

"Really? But I thought those were untouchable, and required guild-members approval to use?"

Momonga lightly chuckled in mirth. "Sygil. You keep forgetting, that you _are_ a member at this stage. Besides. I'm the guild master. My word is technically final."

Sygil felt a little unsure, however. "Even though you place everything to a democratic vote?"

Momonga looked downcast at the mention of the other guild-members.

"About that Sygil. I don't think it really matters at this stage. No-one else really tends to log on anymore. I've asked, but real life issues tend to force them to be unavailable."

So there it was. The cat was out of the bag. Momonga was ultimately depressed at what he felt was the abandonment of his close friends. In a way, he could relate, having been betrayed in the past by those close to him. But he moved on and became stronger for it. Would Momonga?

"Well then, let's go have a try, then. Eh?" While he didn't feel responsible for Momonga, he could at least try to cheer him up by indulging in this little request of his. Besides, maybe then he could get a chance to see what made the NPC's tick and behave the way they would around him and him alone. Despite being here for two months, he hadn't done much to investigate the NPC's, so perhaps now was a chance.

Momonga seemed to beam at him in delight. "Yes. So, go to your customisation menu, and select create NPC. When it says resources, type in Ains Ooal Gown, and use the code Nazarick to use our resources. You can create any NPC's you wish. The more stats and higher class equipment you use, the higher its overall level is. With the exception of Rubedo, the max level is usually 100. You might not be able to max an NPC out to level 100 since you are level 80, but you should still be able to level it up high enough. Once you rank up, you can create an even higher ranked NPC." Momonga kept talking passionately, and Sygil respectfully maintained his silence throughout the course of it.

When Momonga finally finished, he looked at Sygil, what he assumed anyways, expectantly. "So, go ahead and have a try."

Sygil faltered, however, as he remembered that he hadn't been able to access his character profile, or even create it technically. Just how was he supposed to create an NPC? Nay, scratch that, explain it to Momonga?

"Well, Momonga, you see…. I can't create an NPC. My build prevents me from creating NPCs. Developer decision, remember?" It was a blatant lie, but he didn't want to have to create an imperfect lie with so many holes in it. He didn't even like lying at all, but it was technically true to an extent. He sincerely doubted he could create an NPC based on the method Momonga described to him.

Momonga seemed somewhat sceptical. "That seems… a little off?"

_Argh! Quick!_ "Because my build is considered powerful enough as it is, especially with my summons, one of the trade-offs is I can't build NPCs, only hire them."

After months of being exposed to gamers and gamer terminology, he could proudly admit that he could speak their language. Didn't make him feel less like an extra-terrestrial attempting to assimilate into a foreign society, but it was the best he could do.

Momonga hummed quietly. "I see. Perhaps I have something to help with that."

Sygil stared inquisitively at Momonga. "Uh, what could possibly work?"

Momonga merely just continued cryptically. "Come with me to the treasury. I think I have something."

"Okay?"

Sygil stood up and followed the Undead Liche to the throne room, meanwhile pondering what Momonga possibly could have or want.

* * *

Upon entering the throne room, he was greeted the exquisite and ornate architecture, and of course, the one NPC he swore was truly alive, if judging by the subtle glares always aimed at him whenever he was around her.

"We'll leave our rings with Albedo. The Treasury prevents us from accessing it otherwise." As Momonga handed his Ring of Ains Ooal Gown to Albedo, he suspected there was a story to what Momonga had said, but didn't ask or pry. He simply took his Ring of Ains Ooal Gown off and handed it Albedo. Oddly enough, he didn't receive the usual glare he always felt. Maybe because there was an actual player, Momonga, nearby this time. Though, that didn't stop her in the past.

Momonga opened a portal to the treasury and beckoned for him to enter first. Sygil was uncertain. While he was essentially hosted by Momonga and his guild for the past couple months, he still was wary for any signs of betrayal or attempts to trap and or kill him. Regardless, he stepped forth into the portal. _Hopefully this is just a nice thing._

He arrived in a large, spacious room with simple, yet elegant statues and surrounding ornaments. A simple leather couch and coffee table sat in the centre of the room, all illuminated by a central chandelier in the room.

Momonga followed him almost immediately out of the portal.

"Wait here. I will go to the treasury alone."

Sygil didn't get a chance to rebuke him, as Momonga had already vanished into another portal.

Looking around, he realised he was left alone in the room. Deciding there was nothing left to do but wait for Momonga's return, he took to looking at some the paintings hanging on the walls.

_For a video game, they sure do go all out on the details of their little world. _ Feeling the artwork was decent enough, he continued to carefully look at the paintings and statues. Even though everything was procedurally generated, it was still impressive to take in.

"I'm back." Sygil turned to face Momonga, whose portal was just closing behind him.

Sygil crossed his arms. "So? Did you find what you wanted?"

"Yes." Momonga produced a ring in his hands, holding it out for Sygil to take. Momonga explained as Sygil held the object up to examine.

"It's a Ring of Creation. Every guild gets five whenever one forms, allowing for players to bypass racial limitations when creating NPCs. It's mostly useless as for most races you can normally just access the same features in the console. However, the shitty devs like to make all things official, so they created essentially a trash item."

Sygil looked non-plussed and even hurt at that. "Wow. I'm worthy of trash items now, am I?"

Momonga waved his hands franticly. "No no, that's not at all what I – " Sygil's laugh cut him off. "I was jesting Momonga. I can clearly see the benefits of having a ring for someone like me. I appreciate this."

Momonga just laughed awkwardly. "It's no problem. You've been around long enough and are always on and willing to help. Its kinda the least I could do after this."

Sygil smiled an authentic and genuine smile of appreciation. "I truly do appreciate this Momonga. You have my gratitude."

"It has unlimited uses, however, it can be destroyed. Be careful and create wisely."

"Indeed I shall Momonga."

There was a momentary pause of silence before Momonga activated a portal to lead both of them back to the throne room.

As they stepped through and entered, Sygil began to question Momonga concerning the ring.

"So how is it specifically activated?"

"Um, like you activate the other rings?" Momonga was confused. All rings were activated the same way through a console shortcut command button.

_Sheesh, the way he speaks sometimes, it's as if he doesn't know how to access the console buttons and other commands at times._

Meanwhile, Sygil continued to examine the ring as Momonga began walking to sit on the throne itself. Well, sit was an understatement so much as it was a somewhat exhausted and dejected slump. Sygil figured maybe he was truly depressed over the absence of his friends. Albedo seemed to take a position by his side automatically, standing rigid save for the programmed breathing animation.

"Any adverse effects I should know before I use it?" While Sygil still remained cautious of everyone, even Momonga, he was slowly warming up to him, mostly because of him openly displaying his true emotions. Therefore, he was somewhat more willingly to give Momonga his trust. Still didn't mean it was unconditional or even complete; and he wanted to avoid adversely harming himself.

Momonga merely waved a hand dismissively. "None. You just can't create a character on the fly."

Sygil slowly nodded his head thoughtfully. "I see then."

Momonga suddenly perked up as if he remembered something. "Oh, by the way, I forgot. You can actually store your created characters in the ring for summoning. I forgot about that little feature. Kinda the only real use the ring would have. But it requires the ring to have created an NPC."

"Interesting to know, then."

"Anyway," dismissed Momonga. "Go try it out, see if it works and let me know, will you?"

Sygil bowed respectfully. "But of course, Guild-Master."

Sygil turned to leave, but stopped suddenly. His head turned slightly to the side for Momonga to see.

"Oh Momonga. Thanks. For everything. If you ever need me for anything, just let me know. I'm always there to help." And then he left via the very doors he entered.

As Momonga pondered over Sygil words quietly, Albedo's reaction was subtle. It was barely discernible unless one payed sufficient attention to detail, but her features, ever so subtly, softened at Sygil's proclamation.

* * *

His destination was the library, but first he had to get there. While it would have been simply easy to teleport, or at least according to players such as Momonga, he preferred to take his time and appreciate the scenery per se.

Standing outside of the throne room doors, he was greeted with the sight of various smaller statues, gold embroidery, paintings, ornaments and a red carpet that would lead to other parts of Nazarick's Ninth Floor. Honestly, it was impressive the amount of detail that went in to making the base seem so luscious and wealthy. It would even make some of his wealthier previous clients over the years jealous. The only solace they could potentially have would be that it is only a virtual world, and the in-game wealth is not applicable to real-world wealth. It didn't distract from the fact it still looked better, in his honest opinion.

Standing to his immediate right were several maids and a butler. They seemed to stand rigid and unwavering, silently guarding the entrance to the throne room. However, their eyes seemed to be subtly watching him. Or maybe it was the light.

He still had minimal interactions with the NPC's over his tenure, and he was still curious following the incident with the NPC Angel in the mines several months ago.

_Well, maybe here's an opportunity to test something?_ He quietly mused. Deciding now was as good a time as any, he approached the group of servants/defenders, stopping in front of the butler.

Sygil kept a tight and neutral face with his hands behind his back as he examined the butler first.

Sygil flicked his wrist disinterestedly in front of the butler, resulting in a character name and profile sheet appearing before Sygil.

Sygil quirked an eyebrow with mild interest. "Sebas Tian. The Head Butler of Nazarick, and the Head of the Pleiades."

_The Pleiades? Is that a sub group within Ains Ooal Gown? A cooking club perhaps?_ He kept reading briefly.

"A strong martial artist who uses his fists eh, interesting. A dragonoid race member."

Sygil stood there, carefully musing what he had just red, before waving away the character profile sheet and name.

"I guess there is more to you than lets on, but I'll reserve judgement if I ever see you in action myself."

He gave Sebas a final once over look before moving on to the next NPC.

"Yuri Alpha. Vice-Captain of the Pleiades, and second-in-command to Sebas."

He spent a second looking into Yuri's eyes, curious for any reaction, before it dawned on him.

"Ah. I get it. The Pleiades are the famed Battle-maids I have heard about. The Pleiades, referring to the Seven sister star constellation. I'm assuming there are indeed seven of you, then?" There were, however, only six.

"Hmm," hummed Sygil in disappointment. "Maybe I was wrong, or maybe the seventh is just elsewhere."

Sygil returned his attention back to Yuri.

"So. Yuri Alpha. You're the head of this bunch of, uh, _unique_ individuals." By unique, he was more-so referring to the random assortment of dress-wear and colours the maids were equipped with.

"Alpha refers to the first in command, and is the first letter of the Greek alphabet." Looking around, he spoke, addressing his seemingly non-receptive audience, hoping for a response, a reaction, anything elicited to indicate there was something more than just coding going on inside these seemingly procedurally generated characters.

"That means, by all likelihood, there should be someone with maybe a Beta in their name, right?" No response.

He stepped back from Yuri, before slowly and methodically walking down their ranks.

"I'm guessing, there is also a Gamma, Delta, Epsilon and a Zeta? And maybe our missing seventh member would be perhaps an Omega? The lone wolf of the pack. I think that covers the seven Pleiades. Or at least, I assume it does?"

He waited, hoping for a response, a voice. Alas, nothing came, and so his face somewhat fell, appearing disappointed.

"Hmmm. Oh well." _Back to reading their character profiles it is._

Walking back to the maid next to Yuri, a red-head with tanned skin, he opened up her profile.

"Lupusregina Beta. I do hope I am pronouncing that name correctly."

_It appears that she is a more rowdy type NPC judging from this, and apparently quick to act._ He examined her build, scrutinising her for anything.

"A werewolf? Ah. Lupus for wolf, and regina for queen. Latin, perhaps?" He honestly wasn't too sure, he just made an educated assumption. "Not bad." Sygil nodded somewhat approvingly before closing down Lupusregina's profile.

He still got no response. Perhaps flattery would work?

"Both a beautiful and respectable name, for an equally beautiful and impressive individual." When he failed to gain a reaction again, he reached out with a gloved hand and gently lifted one of the maid's braids, rubbing it between his forefinger and thumb, feeling resistance underneath his gloves, before letting it fall back down again.

"The realism of this world can be astounding at times. Whoever designed you all seems to have taken their time." He stepped back, a more calculating expression adorned on his face.

He failed to elicit a reaction, so perhaps it was best to try something else. Taking a step back from the werewolf maid, he made to approach the next maid in line, a raven-haired maid. However, he decided, trying the nice approach to get a reaction wasn't quite cutting it.

Before anyone could process what happened, Sygil summoned his Sabre, spinning around and using the carried momentum to deliver a strike that would decapitate the red-haired battle maid. At the last possible microsecond, he halted his blade's carried momentum, stopping the blade from the maid's neck by a mere millimetre. The whistle of the blade could still be heard dying down in the hallway.

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinising Lupusregina and the other maids and Sebas for any reaction. Alas, there was none.

After several seconds of analysing with no elicited response, he stood straight again, vanishing his sabre. "For a bunch of pretty ladies, you don't act like I would typically expect. Far from chatty type indeed. I know you can understand me. I'm just curious is all." His tone became more neutral as he turned around to walk away from the maids.

"If you want to talk with me, you know where to find me. I won't bite." And with that, he left the maids and butler alone, proceeding to the Great Library.

_Maybe I am going insane, talking to AI like they're alive._

* * *

The library was exactly like the last time he was there. Endless rows of books. While many were incapable of being read, being purely cosmetic in nature, there were also many that were packed with hundreds of pages worth of detailed lore, written by both the developers and the greater community over the many years. It was in those very tomes that Sygil had dedicated much of his spare time to reading.

What he was specifically looking for wasn't a clear-cut answer, but rather something to give him an idea on how to address his injury. The tomes were ultimately based on skewed, fantasised and altered depictions of actual religion and 'magic', for a better word. Oh how he loathed that word. But, he would have to bear with it. For now.

Many of the books were based on different monster designs created by the developers, and those monsters were in turn often inspired by actual mythology, though it wasn't uncommon to see many actual independently creative creatures and stories. And that was what was ultimately taking the majority of his time.

The past couple of months had been spent on organising his research, sifting through nearly each and every single page of each book, looking for any potential ideas, suggestions, or even statements, that might help. While he didn't expect complete accuracy, much of what was provided was based on actual mythology. This was in turn, to an extent, based on how the actual Overworld of Heaven, Hell and Purgatory operated. Except, the knowledge was from a mortal person's interpretation and perspective. And even then, much of the actual useful information appeared misconstrued, reinterpreted and rewritten for purely a fantasy game. It was painstaking, but he was in fact making progress, albeit painstakingly.

He had just about finished organising all the books into what were useful, and what weren't. He also had a pile of books that he had actually started reading through that pertained to actual holy and unholy elemental laws, albeit again rewritten for a game perspective. But, they were a good start and source of ideas.

At the rate he was going, he predicted, he had approximately a month's worth of further research from all of the tomes, including organising the last unsorted books. Honestly, he was initially surprised at the level of detail and dedication both the community and developers had to create each and every one of these books. Though, after further reading, it was apparent that most of the books were actually simply online Wikipedia pages and other online textbooks and research journals concerning anything and everything, from military history to pop-culture, to how to manage a business to… some rather explicit texts, all copied and pasted into each of the books. And concerning the size of the library, it wouldn't have surprised him if nearly every single article ever published was contained.

_Someone must have been either really bored, or really dedicated._ It both pleased and horrified him how daunting his task was really going to be.

_At least the game will be active for a long time, granting me plenty of time to research everything_. Honestly, the last thing he needed at this stage was for the game to crash and or shut down on him.

_Fat chance that will happen. Too much money._ It also helped that he was not required to do as many quests or mercenary work for Momonga. While he didn't mind doing the work, it detracted from his real goal. A goal he refused to share with Momonga or any of the other guild-members, only saying he was just dedicated to understanding the lore of the game. It was technically a half-truth at best? At this stage, he couldn't care.

Walking down the aisles, he was greeted with familiar sight of his secluded research bench in a darker corner. The table was well-kept and clean, but covered with large and small stacks of various books. Further stacks were on the floor, but he at least attempted to keep the area somewhat organised and respectable.

Sitting down at the barely illuminated bench, he let out an audible sigh.

"This is getting tiresome." He honestly didn't feel like reading the next book. If only he had someone to discretely work with him that could properly understand what he wanted and why.

_Actually..._ He had a Eureka moment!

Carefully grabbing the ring that Momonga gave him, he had an idea that might work if he figured out how.

"I just need to figure out how to create an NPC."

He remembered Momonga's words that he just needed to activate the ring similarly to how he would use the Ring of Ains Ooal Gown.

_The Ring of Ains Ooal Gown! For fuck's sake I forgot to grab it from Albedo. Argh. Next time I'm up there, I'll get it from her._

Relegating that problem for later on, he placed the ring from Momonga on his right index finger. Concentrating hard, he tried to activate it. Surprisingly, it worked, and he was greeted with a console menu that he could manually interact with and manipulate.

_Okay. Easy progress. For once._ He thought sarcastically.

_So. What do I want to create? Someone independent, but capable of following orders flawlessly. Good organisational skills and memory. But what should I build him as? _

He had the option of selecting several races, alongside a starting template and gender for each one.

Picturing a rough idea of what he wanted, he started playing around with the settings, moulding his character to what he wanted. Using the resources of Nazarick that Momonga had so generously donated to him, he was able to spend several hours of the, he assumed, night toiling away at his NPC. Much of this time was spent maximising the stats and levels of the NPC, and more than once, he screwed something up and had to start from scratch. The game seemed to be finicky when he interacted with it.

After hours of manipulation he finally finished creating his first NPC. For a first attempt, it wasn't overly bad.

"Now to add some further background information." This was mostly for cosmetic reasons, but he figured he might as well do something easy for a change. Redundant and wasteful? Possibly. But he could care less right now.

After writing a brief description describing the NPC's purpose, he decided to incorporate many of the various non-fiction textbooks concerning military leadership, organisational skills and rostering of staff and personnel, military history, finances and economics, sciences and mathematics, and just about anything he could find.

He hoped that perhaps it was the additional coding that contributed to intellect and ability for the NPCs to communicate. It was just an idea however.

_I'm getting crazy with my age…. Thinking simple computer AI can communicate with me._ However, the evidence had been presented before him in the past. What harm was there in trying to solve an unrelated mystery on the side?

He didn't exactly read through what texts were there, but he glimpsed at some of the titles absent-mindedly.

_The art of war; Sun Tzu, _and _Krieg und Krieger_ were to name but a few. Oh, if only he bothered to read what such books would truly entail.

He had finished his first NPC. Now he just needed to click create in the menu. And so he did just that.

The NPC transitioned from his menu screen to a life-sized character directly in front of him. A character profile sheet and name was automatically displayed above the character, and following a quick cursory glance, everything seemed to correspond with what he had just written and created.

"Maxmillian. A level 95 NPC with superior leadership and military organisational skills. Race is human male, approximately aged 35 years."

He had attempted to maximise all of the character stats when creating Maxmillian, but due to his own rank, he was fortunate to be able to push the NPC to level 95.

Maxmillian was dressed in a grey military dress uniform reminiscent of a modern Earth military. It was actually a template provided by the ring for the Human Race build, though he did modify it a bit.

Gold embroidered epaulettes were displayed on both of his shoulders, with golden stars signifying his rank as a four-star general equivalent. A golden eagle bearing a sword and arrow in each talon respectively was 'stitched' on to the collar of his uniform, alongside further gold trimming alongside the edges. The same golden eagle was also stitched above his buttoned left breast pocket. The long-sleeved dress coat, which was a heavy-duty and reinforced but lightweight material, extended to nearly half-way below his knees, ending just where his black dress-boots began. The boots were also reinforced, and as polished as he could make them.

A black belt wrapped around his waist, housing a leather holster for a handgun, which was currently non-existent due to the in-game gun limitations preventing guns to be created. So he modified Maxmillian's uniform further to house an officer's sabre, complete in an ornate sheath. The sabre had a hand-guard to protect him, but the odds of him seeing actual combat were unlikely. Still, it did at least look nice. And he did add several texts on sword-fighting and gun usage, as well as some CQC tactics. Perhaps he was getting bored to be adding that much detail.

Maxmillian wore a pair of black leather gloves, and an officers peaked-cap adorned his head, the colour scheme matching his uniform. The peaked-cap had gold embroidery on the edges of the visor, with the same golden eagle adorning the material peak of the cap. A gold aiguillette draped from his right breast and shoulder, and a thin leather cross-belt went under the same right epaulette diagonally to his pistol holster on his left hip, attaching directly to the belt.

Maxmillian's facial features were sharp but clean. He was clean-shaven, with short, cleanly cut brown hair and blue eyes. He didn't want blonde hair and blue eyes. The last thing he wanted to see on a constant basis was a physical reminder of Asphaestus. He ultimately appeared to be cold and calculating, which while not necessarily the intended look that Sygil was aiming for, he wasn't complaining.

Perhaps he overdid it and spent way too much time in creating Maxmillian than was truly warranted, but it was, he daresay, fun for a change.

_At least I can find him in a jiffy if he gets lost amongst all these other NPC's._ That was a lot of the reasoning for his choice of style for his NPC creation, after being exposed to all the other players and NPC's dress styles. So far, none had a dress style at all similar to his NPC's military uniform.

"So," he clapped his hands together somewhat expectantly. "Let's see if you can follow instructions, and prove my theory correct." After that incident in the mines with the seemingly sentient enemy NPC, Sygil suspected there was more at play going on. And he wanted to find out what it was. But first. Can his new NPC actually help him sort out the books?

"Maxmillian," he started, only to falter as he had literally no clue as to what specific commands would work. _Well. It's technically an NPC, and if it's anything like that angel bastard a couple months ago, a simple conversation to initiate some orders ought to do the trick._

"Maxmillian. Pick up a book concerning 10th Tier elemental holy magic." And now, he waited, watching anxiously with somewhat bated breath, anticipating what potential response the new NPC might have. He had two books concerning elemental holy magic, one was concerning 10th tier holy magic only, the other was just concerning a generalised review of holy magic Tiers 1 through 6. He was hoping Maxmillian would be able to critically analyse his order and, through logical reasoning and deduction, choose the appropriate textbook, or at least give some form of a response to let him know, well, anything.

No sooner had the order left his mouth, Maxmillian responded.

"Of course, Mein Fuhrer." _He did it?!_ Sygil managed to maintain a stoic image externally, but internally he was starting to become excited. Maxmillian was not only responding back (he had yet to determine if it was an automated response to a command, or if it was a sign of an actual sentient response to his command) he was also walking over to the table where the two possible books were, and actually flipping through the pages and reading the title to determine which book was appropriate.

_This is good! Not only is he capable of speech, and following orders, but he's also logically and critically analysing the books to see if – wait? Did he just call me Mein Fuhrer?!_

"Maxmillian? What did you just call me?"

Maxmillian just casually turned around to face his creator while walking back with the desired book he was ordered to collect, titled _10__th__ Tier Holy Elemental Magic._ "Mein Fuhrer. Is that not what you are?"

Sygil felt conflicted. _I am your leader, but Mein Fuhrer is not exactly what I want to be called as. Oooh boy. Where do we begin._

"While I am your creator and therefore your sole leader, I would rather not be referred to as a _Mein Fuhrer_." He made extra emphasis to stress the two German synonymous words.

"Consider that one your primary directive for now." _Guess we dodged some potential issues there if Momonga ever saw this guy. I wonder if he would ever be embarrassed by a creation such as this?_

"Does that mean it replaces our other primary directive?"

_What? _

Sygil looked at Maxmillian confused. "What other primary directive?"

"To exterminate the Jews, Gypsies and other ethnic undesirables, thus restoring human purity and therefore human superiority against the other filthy non-human races?"

"…."

Sygil couldn't help but look at Maxmillian with nothing short of absolute shock.

_Holy sweet lord!_ _What the fuck sort of response is that?!_

"Um, Maxmillian, I don't think that is quite correct for your primary directive."

Maxmillian cocked his head in slight confusion?

"Is it our method of achieving ethnic and racial purity? I can revise it to ensure it meets approved standards along the lines of the United Nations and United States government if you wish. Geneva has long since been made irrelevant, so more discrete and targeted methods can be utilised to help benefit your goals without the immediate scrutiny of such weak power structures. We can also begin amassing an army to remove any and all threats, solidifying your rule to the fullest legitimate extent."

_Ohhhhhhhhhhhh fuck. I fucked something up big time here. Why the fuck is he like this!_

"No, Maxmillian. Your only primary objective is to do as I say. And I say we don't have racially targeted mass genocide."

He was met with silence._ Good. Maybe he understands?_

"I see. Would you prefer a more discrete and long-term liquidation so as not to arouse suspicions?"

_Fuck!_ He couldn't help but facepalm.

"No! No genocide! No killings! No nothing but organising the books I want you to organise for now!"

"Of course Mein Fuhrer."

"I just said don't call me that!"

"Of course, sir."

"I – fucking whatever! Just start looking through the books in this pile to make sure I haven't missed anything. Okay?" He gestured to several stacks of books on the floor that he had previously gone through. This was more-so a test to make sure Maxmillian could identify what he wanted him to.

"And what exactly am I looking for?"

"Anything pertaining to holy, unholy and elemental related magic, spells, manifestations and the like. Basically anything that could prove valuable in helping to reverse a holy infection."

"I see. Why do you need to know about this? Your stats should make you immune to such attacks?"

"I see you're also a smartass. Just do it for now. And only that pile of books. Can you do that?"

Maxmillian bowed respectfully. "Of course, sir."

Sygil wiped his face in slight frustration. _What the fuck have I done wrong? Wait! I managed to have an actual conversation with an NPC. That means he has some sentience! So why didn't the Pleiades or any of the other NPCs respond to me? Arghh! Fuck, this shit is really getting on my nerves!_

He watched Maxmillian dutifully start sorting through and reading the books in the designated pile.

_Good. It should take him the day to get through that, and there should be nothing of value in there. If that's the case, then I can order him to start sorting through the other books while I start reading through these other materials._

Just as he was starting to calm down and think he was making progress, he received an incoming message from none other than Momonga.

_Momonga: Hey Sygil. It's been a day already and, I know you might be busy, but are you free right now?_

Sygil widened his eyes in surprise. _A day has already gone by?!_

_Sygil: Sure. I can be there shortly. Whereabouts?_

_Momonga: Meet me on the Sixth Floor. I'll be in the coliseum._

_Sygil: Okay. See you there._

He could feel Momonga end the call, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Albeit, very conflicted thoughts. Ultimately, he was unsure what to do about Maxmillian concerning his _enlightening_ world views.

_Why exactly does he have such a hard on for racial genocide? _Ultimately, at this stage he was uncertain. It would require further researching into. Ultimately, it wasn't a big deal as once he finished the research he planned on hightailing it out of Yggdrasil and getting back on track to killing Asphaestus.

_One step at a time, though._

First thing right now was he needed to head to the sixth floor and meet with Momonga, and while he hated having to teleport, he didn't like leaving clients waiting. It was bad business practice after all.

_Guess teleportation is the go to today. I just need to use my ring of Ains Ooal….._ It suddenly dawned on him again.

_For fucks sake. _

Shaking his head in frustration, he resigned himself to walking.

_What's quicker to get to? 6__th__ floor or Throne room? Though, Albedo has my ring and she might not be there. Argh, and it wouldn't look good for me to ask Momonga for help getting it back considering he gave it to me in good faith. Guess I'll have to get it from Albedo later._

Resigning himself to his tedious fate, he began the long walk.

Ultimately, it took no longer than 15 minutes to get there, but it was still far too long for his tastes.

_Never a good idea to leave a client waiting._ He reprimanded himself for his tardiness.

Upon entering the coliseum, he was greeted with two small figures in white clothing standing next to Momonga. A large tree stood behind them, and all around, white marble or stone pillars lay scattered about. The night sky was visible, but since it was a virtual reality, it was hardly accurate.

Momonga turned to face him as he entered.

"Ah, great! You made it! Was kinda wondering where you were for a minute."

"Yeah small inconvenience is all. I apologise for my tardiness." Sygil gritted through his teeth, trying to move on beyond the subject of his late arrival.

"All good, all good. I'm glad you could make it. It's been a whole day, and I was wondering what it was you made?" Momonga's question was innocent enough, but it reminded him of the absolute clusterfuck of a character he had created. And how was he going to explain that to Momonga?

Momonga seemed to notice his hesitation. "Are you okay? Get enough sleep last night?"

"Oh yeah, plenty," Sygil lied through his teeth.

Momonga seemed to hesitate. "You're sure? You're always on, it's kinda like you live on this server now that I think about," the guild-master tried to alleviate some of the tension by laughing at his own observation.

_Oh if only you knew how true that was Momonga_. Sygil internally grimaced.

Sygil tried to lightly chuckle before moving the conversation forwards. Not that he wanted to be rude, but the more time he spent finalising his research, the sooner he could be out of here.

"So, what did you want me for Momonga?"

Momonga's laughter died down, and there was a pause before he spoke.

"I just wanted to spend some time together, ya-know, because the end is coming. So how is your NPC coming along?"

_The end is coming? What?_ Sygil decided to responded to the NPC question first; he could ask about the 'supposed end' in a minute.

_Better to get rid of this can of worms._

"Yeah, it's coming along. Still have got some tweaking to do." _Understatement of the century. How the fuck are meant to erase neo-nazi ideology from someone with the push of a button?_

"Yeah? What sort of tweaking? Maybe I can help? Summon your NPC and I can try tweaking it?"

"That's not necessary. Though… perhaps do you know a way to alter an NPC's behaviour?"

That sounded like the dumbest question in Sygil's eyes, considering it was within a context that he didn't want to reveal to Momonga.

"Um…. Alter the profile sheet? I guess?"

"….." He felt so dumb, but at the same time, he also felt Momonga was dumb. _To what?! Rewrite the character and how they are as an individual?! I don't think that's how that works Momonga! Though… perhaps there might be a way. I'll look into it later.  
_

To be fair, he couldn't fault Momonga for something he wasn't aware of.

"Of course. I forgot that…." Now he felt somewhat uncomfortable. _This is fucking bullshit…_

He pushed such thoughts aside, however.

_Best to move on_.

Now to tackle the next question. The one that seemed to be bothering Momonga.

"So. What do you mean by the end of the world?" He could already feel himself regretting to ask this, preparing for some drawn-out personal story. While Momonga had somewhat grown on him, he was not a therapist, but he figured he could at least do this one thing for Momonga.

However, Momonga seemed to act genuinely confused at Sygil's question.

"What do you mean? When the server's close in a week's time."

At that moment, Sygil could feel his blood drain.


	8. Sorrow

**Authors Note at bottom of Chapter.**

* * *

**Disclaimer at the start of the first chapter. Again, though, I do NOT own any of the rights to Overlord and its respective content.**

* * *

**Recommended age rating: T**

\- Some strong language

* * *

**Sorrow**

Deep in the 9th Floor of Nazarick, seated around one of the tables in an elaborate dining room, complete with ornate chandeliers, chairs, sculptures, dining tables and associated ornate cutlery, sat six maids dressed in an assortment of maid outfits and colours.

Currently, they sat about with an assortment of finely prepared foods, ranging from sweet cakes, muffins and biscuits, to dazzling golden-coloured meats, fruits and vegetables. A range of drinks, collected in delicate teacups lay specifically placed to each maid, who each were currently consuming, rather delicately and properly (they were the finest maids of all of Nazarick, it would be unbefitting otherwise), the assortment of food and drinks.

They were currently on a 'tea-break' of sorts. Since they were considered the last line of defence for the Supreme Beings in the glorious Throne Room, they had ample warning time to prepare if need be. As such, as part of their automated routine, as dictated by the Supreme Beings, was to allow themselves some time to recollect. They didn't know why they were so generously granted this choice, but it was the will of the supreme beings, and their will was absolute.

As they currently enjoyed their temporary break before being reassigned to the Throne Room and associated hallways for defence and patrol, they allowed themselves to slip into conversation. They could afford to do so because no other players, or even the Supreme Beings were nearby.

For some reason, the sheer power and will of the Supreme Beings was enough to prevent them speaking out of turn, rendering them to follow and recite only the assigned commands they were permitted to use. It was breathtaking, their power. All of the Supreme Beings emitted this aura. All, except for one. One Sygil Amadeus, and currently he was the source of their current discussion.

"Oooooh! Did you hear Sygil-sama! He called me pretty and beautiful~su! Such a way to a lady's heart." Currently Lupusregina was recalling their unexpected meeting with Sygil in the hallway.

Yuri straightened her glasses, before gently reprimanding Lupusregina. "Do not speak with food in your mouth. It is unbecoming of a Pleiades Battle-maid for the Supreme Beings."

"Yes Yuri-nee!"

Narberal tuned out Lupuregina as she addressed Yuri.

"So Yuri-sama? What do you think about last night?" There was a lot of general curiosity and even some confusion as to what happened last night with Sygil in the hallway. It was common knowledge that Sygil was indeed a mysterious Supreme Being, radiating the aura of both a _Player_ **and** an _En-Pee-See_, as the other Supreme Beings would refer to them as. However, he also felt different from those two aforementioned groups.

Yuri looked somewhat uncertain.

"I am unsure. The way he spoke to us. And how he addressed us is… quite different from how the other Supreme Beings talk to us?"

They all nodded in agreement. Sygil spoke to them a lot more directly, as if he knew they could speak, but refused to. In one way, it made them feel somewhat ashamed that they couldn't fulfil one of the orders coming directly from a Supreme Being.

And that was the other thing. While there was initial scepticism and distrust generated towards Sygil when he was first introduced, and worse still when he became a Supreme Being for Ains Ooal Gown, over the months of exposure to him and secretly observing him and to an extent his interactions with the other Supreme Beings, namely Guild-Master Momonga, a lot of the tension eased away.

Sygil never stole anything or made obvious attempts to sabotage the Supreme Being's efforts, instead offering his services willingly and completely whenever asked. He always completed said duties efficiently and in a timely manner. Afterwards, he would always retire directly to the Great Library to read through many of the sacred Tomes kept there. He made sure to never damage or misplace said books, though the Librarian present helped with that to an extent. And recently, an announcement from Guardian Overseer Albedo assured everybody of his intentions to offer his unconditional help to Momonga fulfil his goals. Such a proclamation of devout loyalty was seen as very wise and respectful, and that ultimately boosted Sygil's popularity to be borderline on par with the other Supreme Beings. And unlike the other Supreme Beings, he seldom ever left the world of Yggdrasil, even at night or for Supreme Being tasks outside of their world.

It was well-known that one of the requirements for a Supreme Being to become a member of Ains Ooal Gown was, other than absolute loyalty, to hold a "_job_" as the other Supreme Beings would put it.

From what the Guardian Overseer Albedo had overheard, apparently Sygil had originally held a 'job' that commanded a lot of respect from even the Supreme Beings.

While most of Nazarick's residents didn't understand too much of what was meant, the Floor Guardians were smart enough to see that Sygil was actually under contract to serve the Supreme Beings because of his skillset. In exchange, the Supreme Beings provided for him. Regardless, it was a beneficial relationship, and Nazarick was slowly starting to come to see Sygil as one of their own, even if he didn't know it.

"Should we take Sygil up on his offer?" Offered Entoma.

Yuri shook her head. "It's hard to say. It would be best if we discussed this with either Sebas or even Overseer Albedo. They would know the best choice on how to handle this.

"So in the meantime, continue your duties as you normally would. I will talk to Master Sebas concerning Lord Sygil. Until then, allow us to enjoy this meal granted by the will of the Supreme Beings."

* * *

Sygil could feel the blood drain from his face. However, he maintained an expertly calm visage. Now was not the time to panic or overreact.

"I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure I follow. What do you mean when the server's close?" There had to be a mistake. He couldn't afford the servers to close now and shut the game down.

"Yggdrasil is shutting down in a week. They announced it over a month ago. It was all over the forums."

Well that explained everything. He didn't access the online forums, either for lack of care, or just an inability to. Honestly, some of the game features were touch and go, while others were quite finicky and refused to work for him. He just attributed it to the fact his soul was inside the neural network for the virtual reality, and therefore accessibility and interactivity was limited.

However, the news of Yggdrasil shutting down was still new to him. He hadn't heard anything about it.

_Though, it does explain why Momonga is acting a bit more depressed than usual these days. He treats this game as his sole lifeline, and after so many years of investment, for it to come crashing down all around him because of the actions of others, it must be a hard blow to accept._

However, Momonga wasn't finished there yet.

"How can you remain oblivious to that?! You practically live on this game," Sygil internally winced at how true his words were, unknowingly.

"I don't access the forums a lot. You know that."

"You don't do much in the game at all, actually! You're not acting like you even care, despite how much time you put in!"

_This game means much more to me than you could possibly realise._

Momonga wasn't finished with his rant yet, however.

"You just spend most of your time in the library! What could be so important that you would waste your time there! You could be a level 100 player by now, but you aren't! It's like you don't even care at all!"

By now Momonga was beginning to become emotional, and all the loneliness and feelings of abandonment by his friends seemed to be catching up.

"Momonga," Sygil tried to reason. "It's not that. It's just those books…." He trailed off. How was he supposed to explain his reasoning for spending hours at a time soaked inside a virtual library, looking up fantasy-based knowledge? At best he would come off as selfish, at worst he would come off as insane.

Momonga, however, took Sygil's lack of answer as an admission of guilt.

"What will it take for you to enjoy the game as it's meant to be played! It seems that library is making it harder for you to even socialise with your friends. With me!"

By now, Momonga was full-stream into his rant.

"Look, Momonga, you're just distressed because the game is shutting down. This isn't you. You're the guild-master, you are meant to be stronger than this!"

He wanted to implore to Momonga to better control himself and calm down without actually telling him to directly calm down. _Better to give a hint and let someone think it was their own idea than force it on them._

And it seemed to somewhat work. Momonga seemed to pause and reflect on his comments, before finally speaking again.

"I…. I'm sorry, Sygil. It's just everyone seems to have abandoned the game, and you and I are the only ones that seem to log on frequently, or in this case," he gestured to the empty Coliseum, but was likely referencing his whole base or even the server, "at all."

Sygil chose to ignore the undead's comments. They were just the emotional speak of a distressed person. Not necessarily something to pay attention to.

"Fair enough, but how about, instead of moping about, we actually do something more productive." Sygil hoped Momonga would take the bait. _Just agree, and then we can go our separate ways and work on our own things. I really need to finish this research badly if all I have left is a week. Fuck, I need a MONTH!_

"You're right. How about we actually do something together?"

_Not really._ Sygil gritted internally.

However, looking at Momonga, and contemplating the fact that the NPC's seemed to possess a form of self-awareness, it was probably best not to antagonise a whole army of loyal NPC's by making the guild-master upset.

"Sure, Momonga…." Then again, maybe he did need to catch a little breather for now. Maxmillian was busy working on his behalf, so it should be fine if he was away for a little bit.

"Great! How about some questions about ourselves?" Momonga seemed eager to move on. Desperate even.

"I guess. Nothing too personal though. I have the right to refuse certain questions."

"Momonga waved him off nonchalantly. "Of course! It's not like Peroroncino or Ulbert who are asking anyways, so you shouldn't need to worry."

"I guess then. Before we do, do you have anywhere to sit perhaps?"

Momonga hummed for a second. "Yes, let's head back to the throne room."

He no sooner finished speaking when he simply waved his hand and the ring of Ains Ooal Gown was activated, creating a portal for him to enter.

Sygil wasted no time following him through the portal. He didn't need to explain why he was taking forever to walk, he could just collect the ring back from Albedo after the discussion. Simple as.

* * *

They both stepped through the portal, entering in the throne room. As the portal closed, Momonga turned to face Sygil inquisitively.

"Why didn't you use your own ring?"

Sygil shrugged him off. "It's easier to just use the one."

"I guess?" Momonga didn't ponder any further on it, which Sygil was secretly grateful for.

As Sygil looked around, taking in the massive scale of the throne room, Momonga strode forth to take his seat on the throne. Oddly enough, Albedo was nowhere to be seen.

_I always thought she stayed in the throne room?_ Sygil was curious as to where she had gone.

Momonga began to speak, however, interrupting Sygil's thoughts.

"So. Are you going to join Yggdrasil 2 when it's released?" Momonga was genuinely curious, but he was also hopeful.

Sygil, on the other-hand was doubtful. While the answer would likely be no, he decided to play it safe.

"First off, I was unaware of there being an Yggdrasil 2. Plus, with my current life…" He trailed thoughtfully, before continuing resolutely.

"It depends. I'll try, but I make no guarantees." Momonga nodded slowly, seemingly accepting Sygil's decision.

"I see. I hope you do join though. It's nice, you know…. Having someone around on the server kinda livens it up a bit."

"We'll see…" Sygil nodded. Realistically, he had no intention to join, provided he could move fast enough to finish his research. _Though…. If it follows the same format as the first Yggdrasil, then perhaps I might use it as a nice holiday resort_. Only time would tell. And right now, time was slowly ticking by.

There was a brief silence before Momonga spoke up.

"Say Sygil, I was curious? Do you have any hobbies?"

Sygil felt like time had stopped. He tried to recall memories dating back decades ago, of any idea of what a hobby might pertain to.

He didn't really have hobbies; too busy trying to complete one contract or another and staying alive, or at least, keeping his body alive. Really, the only thing he could think of was possibly playing piano. It was something he had learnt as a child a long, long time ago. Before he became a servant of Lucifer.

Honestly, save for revelling in the blood of those that opposed him, it was the one thing he truly did enjoy, as it provided a semblance of sanity, of peace for him. Reminding him of simpler, safer times. And of his sister. His sister who he lost so long ago, but was the sole reason he sacrificed everything to become what he was. And now? It had been decades since those events, and he had nothing to show for it.

His sister long-dead, leaving him to desperately try and rekindle her soul so maybe, just maybe, he could beg for forgiveness. For everything. But honestly, he even doubted at times if he would be granted that.

And risking death meant he would be more likely to lose the few precious memories and feelings he had for her.

All that he had left to remind him of the events that time were a cursed soul, with skills only for violence and death, and a memory of how to play a piano. Anything else had been irrelevant. And sometimes, even his ability to play a piano conjured up some strong memories. Or at least, the memories tried to be strong. Having displaced his soul from his body a couple times, the memories and feelings of her and his past life became weaker and weaker. He still had enough to remember and even cherish her, but if he died again, he feared what would happen.

Realising he had lost himself in his memories for a little longer than he should have, he responded to Momonga, albeit a little more abruptly than he should have.

"I sometimes played the piano." It was the one thing he guess he truly did enjoy and would consider to be a hobby.

"Really now? That's…. actually nice." Complimented Momonga.

"Thanks…"

Momonga seemed to pick up on his somewhat sour mood.

"You know, we actually do have a piano in the 9th Floor. My friends and I created a theatre room, purely because it looked nice. We even spent some cash in-game to get a piano put in. Don't know if the thing actually works, or if it's just cosmetic." Momonga seemed to smile behind his avatar face as he fondly recalled the memories he and his friends made.

"Maybe you should try it out. Before the server shuts. See if it works?"

Sygil absently nodded his head.

"I'll consider it. Maybe later."

"Sure Sygil," replied Momonga.

There was nothing but silence between the two, until finally, Sygil spoke up.

"What exactly inspired you to build all of this? To create the guild?" Sygil gestured to the surrounding pillars denoting and representing each founding member of Ains Ooal Gown.

Momonga chuckled. "Actually, I would credit Touch-Me for this one. He was sort of the one that got the ball rolling, originally our leader even."

Sygil raised an eyebrow in interest. "Really now? What's the story?"

Momonga leaned back in his throne, seeming genuinely happy that he was able to interact with a 'friend', though Sygil would stretch that term lightly. More like an acquaintance.

"Touch-Me was – is – the undisputed Champion, the Silver Paladin. He originally saved me from PKer's back in the day, before Ains Ooal Gown. He stuck around and helped me rank up to defend myself against other players, and soon, more like-minded players joined us. We wanted to just have some fun. Eventually we became Nines Ooal Gown, since there were nine of us."

Sygil listened with rapt attention, leaning forward and bridging his arms on the table.

"Eventually we conquered a dungeon on the first try, the very one we are in in-fact. We named our new home Nazarick, and over the years, more people joined our guild."

"You mentioned Touch-Me was originally the leader? What happened?" Sygil was genuinely curious.

Momonga sighed.

"Originally, yes. Yes he was. But unfortunately, differences between him and another member caused us to lose one of our members forever. Touch-Me was felt to be ultimately responsible. He resigned himself and I took the mantle."

Sygil nodded thoughtfully. "Is that why Ulbert and Touch-Me butt heads whenever they are on together?"

"You noticed? Yeah. Ulbert was originally friends with the player Touch-Me helped kick out, and it didn't wash over very well with him. The result was, well, you can see for yourself."

Momonga stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of the throne.

"The resulting tension even caused some of our other members to visit less frequently. They felt it was becoming a little bit toxic. Of course, nothing devolved into anything worse than screaming matches, rants and raves. Most of that died down eventually, but, old wounds never heal fully it would seem."

Momonga seemed sad at his recount of events.

He continued.

"Even to this day, they still are mad at each other. They try to avoid each-other if they can. I just wish they would put it all aside."

Sygil made to say something, but Momonga continued before he could.

"No-one is really even mad at them for what happened back then. It's just heartbreaking to see your friends fight so much for so many years now. I'm amazed they even log on at times, doubly so when they are online together. Though, usually, they try not to."

"I guess we all have our struggles. If they are truly friends, then perhaps they will put aside their differences. Though, from what you are saying, I doubt it."

This was why he hated working with people. They let fickle emotions dictate to them how to behave, instead of letting their emotions help fuel their desire to achieve their goals. It was sometimes sickening. Not Ulbert and Touch-Me's dilemma per se. No, that was their own problem. But just people in general. He had witnessed people fall too many times due to letting their emotions control them.

Asphaestus, Vessie, the idiot knight he ran off a cliff several months ago, plus many more. Including himself. Sometimes he wondered if he truly had learned his lesson, or if he was still as susceptible to such a weakness. At least he tried to act with a level head.

"About that, actually. I was planning on inviting everyone to show up for the final hours of the game when it's time to shut-down. Sort-of a send-off party. Would you be able to join?"

"I can do that," Sygil agreed. He needed every second on here to scour as much information as possible anyways. Though, now that he thought about it, he needed not just more time, but more manpower to help with the research.

_I need more NPC's like Maxmillian_. Though, upon further reflection of Maxmillian's rather, interesting tendencies thus far, he would need to be more careful when creating them.

_I still need to fix Maxmillian. I would rather not be reminded of his prime directive every other sentence. Jesus!_

"Was there anything else you needed me for, Momonga?"

"No. But, you'll have to play the piano for me. I would love to hear it!"

Sygil stood up and bowed at his current client. "We'll see. It's not exactly stipulated in the contract."

Momonga burst into a laugh, unawares of how serious Sygil actually was.

"I'll catch you around Momonga," called out Sygil as he walked back to the Throne Room door.

"You too Sygil!"

The doors shut, leaving Momonga all alone in the Throne Room, and thus, a somewhat dreary atmosphere returned to haunt him. All that could be heard was a quietly sobbing Momonga.

"This fucking sucks….."

* * *

As Sygil returned to the Great Library, he was greeted by the sight of Maxmillian finishing sorting through the books he had assigned him.

Surprisingly, not only had Maxmillian correctly sorted through the books, but he was nearly finished his task also.

"Maxmillian! I see you're nearly done."

Maxmillian turned to face Sygil, snapping upright into attention.

"Yes sir! The books are nearly done."

_No issues so far. Good. Good!_ Sygil felt his mood starting to return.

"Though, it does trouble me sir."

Sygil looked Maxmillian in the eyes sharply.

"What does, Maxmillian?"

Maxmillian reached down to grab one of the books on the desk, before enthusiastically presenting it to him.

"This book, sir! Titled, _A novice's guide to better Sexual fulfilment_, by the Supreme Being Lord Peroroncino."

_What?! I am already concerned where this is going._

Sygil tried to dismissively wave the book away.

"It's not quite what I am interested in anyways. It lacks any information worthwhile to helping me."

Maxmillian did not care, however.

"It's not your choice of sexual preferences that is problematic sir. Rather, the concerning factor is what Peroroncino has suggested for a holistic healing ritual. He appears to support the abominable sexual union between various ethnicities, thus propagating their miserable lives and breeding more of their scourge. He even dares to suggest other non-pure races and even certain demi-humans and heteromorphs can provide greater sexual fulfilment!"

Sygil facepalmed. _You have got to be fucking kidding me!_

"Maxmillian, the book was written by Peroroncino. Anything he writes, based on my experiences with the guy, is likely to be sacrilegious, period! The man's a sexual deviant. And out of everything in that book, you choose the most mundane thing to be offended by?!"

"It's not the sexual behaviour that is offensive. Rather, it's disturbing that he would dare suggest you can achieve a holistically healing sexual experience from undesirables of all people. It's abhorrent. Gypsies, Jews, Slavs, Romanians, Communists, Capitalists, Heteromorphs and Demi-humans, the whole lot. They. Aren't. People."

_Oh my fucking god._

"And where, pray tell, did you get these ideas from?"

"From you sir."

"Well thank you Captain Obvious! But how exactly did you get these ideas? Because I know for a hundred percent certainty that they are not mine."

By now, Sygil was becoming agitated. Petty racism was destructive. What truly counted was merit. And overall use. Not skin tone or whatever speck of dirt one was birthed on.

"I am unsure then, sir. All I know is you created me based on how you desired."

_Fucking great._

Sygil snatched the book from Maxmillian.

"Well I desire for you to stop your petty hatred of any and all ethnicities and people because you don't like their skin colour or their religion. It's unproductive and wasteful. All that truly matters is their performance, based on _merit_ alone!" Sygil placed extra emphasis on the word merit, hoping to stress the importance behind the word's meaning to Maxmillian.

_I can't believe I am actually having a debate with a computer generated A.I. And not even a day ago I was struggling to prove whether they can be interacted with or not._

There was a suspenseful pause as Maxmillian seemed to process his creator's command.

"So who the sexual ritual is performed by is of little consequence, only how satisfying it is?"

Sygil pinched the bridge of his nose with his gloved fingers, muttering in frustration. "Of all things for you to contextualise it with, you choose that….."

Sygil looked back at Maxmillian. "Yes. Basically. Can you agree with that?"

"If it is your will, I can do my best, but ultimately I was created to hate all of the ethnic undesirables."

_Fuck it. I need to fix this now. I can't stand to hear this shit every time I ask him a question._

"Yeah, I need you to hold still for a minute," Sygil reached towards Maxmillian, flicking his left hand to open up his character profile to edit.

There was nothing in Maxmillians settings, stats-wise, that indicated a tendency for racism or hatred.

Just then, a thought struck him.

_Maybe there was something in the online texts I copy-pasted over? Those books are based on a lot of information being copy-pasted from the internet. Maybe when I transferred some of the organisational data to him, something in there contained this ideology of his._

Looking through Maxmillian's history, specifically the texts he added, he started to piece together a possible solution.

_Maxmillian is technically sentient enough to follow my commands. And I don't really need him for anything else after the shutdown. If I can just find what texts might be the culprit. That should solve this incessant racism and grant me some peace._

Without even consulting Maxmillian, he started sorting through Maxmillian's copy-paste history, reading every single thing he could find.

"Art of War, Guide to Military Rostering, Krieg und Krieger, The… wait what? Krieg und Krieger?"

_That sounds German. And he hates ethnic undesirables? Coincidence?_

After opening the text with caution, he was greeted with German text, and some… interesting imagery.

_Well then, I can't read this, but I'm sure that's Himmler and Hitler in full uniform. Maybe, we can just get rid of this text._

By now, he was questioning the sanity and stability of whoever actually ported the text over to Yggdrasil.

_All I need is to rely on the in-game stats, and his sentience to do what I need him to do. If I delete this text, it should be fine._

After a minute of trying to delete the text, Sygil finally felt Maxmillian was hopefully 'cleansed' so as to speak. All he needed to do now was save his settings, and then it should be good as gold.

Pressing buttons in the virtual console always felt weird since he was technically a part of the game, but honestly, at this stage, he just wanted everything to be finished with. He had bigger fish to fry long-term.

And so, he saved Maxmillian's new, reduced profile.

_If this doesn't work, I'm burning this dark page in my history._

Maxmillian remained standing at attention, making no other movements or sound, purely waiting for a command.

"Okay, Maxmillian. I need you to sort this stack of books out," he said, gesturing to a stack sitting on an adjacent seat. "Search for anything relating to holy or unholy material, particularly anything pertaining to holy injuries and how to heal them. Let me know if you come across anything that might prove interesting."

"Of course, sir." Maxmillian proceeded to robotically sort through each book meticulously, while Sygil looked on with suspicion.

_That sounded waaaay too automated compared to Maxmillian before…. Whatever. So long as he does his job, it will be all good. Now, I need to create one more helping hand to help move the process along._

He wanted to use the ring to create another NPC modelled after Maxmillian, well, without the narcissistic traits anyways. Someone to help find the crucial details.

Having somewhat of a rough idea, he set about to using his ring to create the next NPC, this time taking only half the time it took to create Maxmillian, who remained silent and diligent in his work the whole time.

First, he needed someone more capable of discerning the smaller details of value, but also capable of identifying and organising for the big picture. Someone with good organisational skills, similar to Maxmillian, and capable of being diligent. And not being biased to anything.

He decided to create a similar model to Maxmillian, based on the same template, meaning they shared the same uniform. However, Sygil decided to alter the stats of the new NPC.

Sygil placed greater emphasis on dexterity, reconnaissance, patience and intelligence to maximise the effectiveness of the NPC. He also equipped the unique Skill Perk [Sharpshooter] for the NPC, allowing for greater accuracy. This would theoretically allow the new NPC to more accurately discern what was more valuable and what should be priority. In theory at least.

Furthermore, Sygil decided against adding material from the library into the NPC's profile this time. He didn't need another Maxmillian.

Upon maxing the stats out, he also found out, however, that the new NPC could only have a max rank of 92, and suffered more damage. Ultimately, however, it was of little concern, as he wasn't planning on waging a war with his NPC's. It wasn't realistic. Though, it did make him wonder.

_What will happen to the NPC's after the shutdown?_

Realistically, he didn't truly care. They were a means to an end. And he was going to exploit them. It was in his nature after all.

Upon creating the character, all he needed now was a name. Maybe he would humour Maxmillian by giving him a German counterpart.

"Hans. If ever there was a German name, I think I hit the money, what would you say Maxmillian?"

No response.

_Is he deaf?_

"Did you hear me Maxmillian?" Maxmillian, however, continued to ignore him, robotically sorting through the books.

_Oh well, it's of little consequence._

So he finalised saving Hans, watching as his newest creation metaphorically gained life. It was both an interesting and rewarding experience to witness the life one has created take its first, metaphorically speaking, breaths in the new wide world.

Of course, being a virtual world, the experience was less thrilling and filled with more mundane staring back into him.

"Well Hans, now that you are awake, your first task is to sort through the stack of books on the left here," he gestured to said assortment of currently unsorted books sitting adjacent from Maxmillian.

"Look for anything pertaining to holy or unholy materials, specifically how they can be used to help heal an unholy injury."

By this stage, Sygil was growing tired of repeating the same command, no matter how warranted.

Hans provided no verbal response, simply just walking to the designated pile and beginning his assigned work. It was, quite frankly, boring.

_No response, no nothing? Sheesh, it's like Hans and Maxmillian are acting like the Pleiades at this stage._

Looking at another stack of unsorted books, he steeled himself for another day of finalising book sorting. These were the last stacks, and then after that, all he needed to do was start actually reading and learning from the organised books.

_Yep. All however many fucking hundreds or thousands there are._ Honestly, he felt overwhelmed. There were too many books to sort through, and not enough time. Half of the books likely only had small snippets of relevant or valuable information.

_Well, no time like the present._

And so, sitting down at the desk alongside the two monotonous NPC's, he committed himself to another lengthy session of studying. And with only several days left, the clock was ticking.

* * *

Another day had passed, and currently Lord Sygil was locked away in the Great Library, and Guild-Master Lord Momonga was currently away in his other godly world. Who knew what sort of places the Surpreme Beings left for.

While such thoughts used to leave Lupusregina excited and curious, awestruck even at the sheer power of their gods to traverse, it eventually made her sad, like all of the other denizens of Nazarick.

Why did their beloved Supreme Beings start abandoning them all? Had they failed? Were they not good enough? Was she not good enough for her creator? Of course, she would never dare think that! None of them would! The Supreme Being's must have a reason for their disappearance! It must be part of some grand plan! And she must grateful to be able to play a part in it. All of them were.

However, lately, she, and many more, had started to develop the same feelings of dread. That their very creators were never going to return.

"Lupusregina," Yuri's voice was strong and commanding, but also compassionate. The Vice-Captain always seemed to know what was troubling them, and how to speak to them accordingly so they were motivated enough. Of course they would work themselves to death itself without being told, for it was the will of the Supreme Beings that they were created, and thus were obligated to serve in any means necessary.

"Yes Yuri-nee?"

"I spoke to Sebas-san."

Lupusregina knew what the discussion likely pertained to and eagerly awaited what the results might be.

"Annnnnnnnnd."

Yuri ignored the somewhat childish impatience.

"It has been decided that, in light of the circumstances, it is best if you, Solution and Entoma go attend to Lord Sygil in the Great Library."

"Eh? Really?!" Lupusregina was conflicted. On one hand she was excited because Sygil seemed to be the only Supreme Being that ever acknowledged the denizens of Nazarick as more than just servants. Even if it was subtle, everyone could tell he was more aware of them.

On the other hand, she was also somewhat nervous. She, like everyone, was well aware of the intense aura surrounding the Supreme Beings; that intense pressure that prevented anyone from speaking or acting outside of their prescribed prerogatives. It was so intense that not even the Floor Guardians could overcome or resist it. That was testament to how strong the Supreme Being's will was. And Lord Sygil was no exception.

"You will meet with your sisters outside the Throne Room, where you shall proceed to the Great Library to meet with Lord Sygil."

Lupusregina found herself nearly gulping at the ominous-appearing task.

"There, it is up to you three to attempt to talk to Lord Sygil, even if it is about what he wishes to speak about only. He has been generous enough to offer you and your sisters a chance to speak with him. This is most likely his wish, and therefore we must obey it. This is a chance for us to potentially overcome their overwhelming presence to declare our fealty."

"Eh, Yuri-nee, while I am honoured, aren't you better suited for this task-su?" At this point, Lupusregina was beginning to feel somewhat nervous at the daunting task before her.

Yuri seemed to only subtly glare at Lupusregina in response, making her aptly stand more rigid and attentive.

"Lord Sygil specifically spent time to admire _you_, therefore you are likely the best choice for him to perhaps open up to."

Now Lupusregina was beginning to feel faint. This was too much to handle.

Anyone would kill for an opportunity to be with the Supreme Beings like this, especially when one openly displayed such affection to them and offered them a chance to speak on more cordial terms. However, the enormity of the task before her was too large, nearly impossible. However, if it was the will of a Supreme Being, then she was obligated to comply.

* * *

Sygil had spent all night reading through the books while Hans and Maxmillian had continued sorting through the books he wanted. He was slowly able to piece a rough idea of what he could use to maybe understand his holy infection more. However, he still lacked some of the information required. But, he was making progress, and that was all that mattered.

However, all the nights of constant reading had been exhausting. While he didn't need sleep or other biological and mortal necessities to survive such as food and water, though they did help keep his body in peak condition, he could still suffer from mental exhaustion. It just took much longer to affect him.

Standing up, he sighed and looked around him. Books as far as the eye could see.

By instinct alone, he figured Momonga would likely be logging on soon. It seemed to be about the right time for the Guild-Master to log on based on his past routine over the months. However, that also meant Momonga would likely want to see him again.

_Might as well beat him to the punch. I need to grab my ring back from Albedo to save me some walking time anyways. _And with that, he decided to head towards the Throne Room; Albedo's preferred residence.

_Hopefully she's there this time._

Closing the doors to the library as he left, he was greeted with the same marvellous hallway that connected throughout the entirety of the 9th Floor, eventually leading to the Throne Room.

Beginning his walk, he trusted his two NPC's to finish their work dutifully without him needing to micromanage them.

As he rounded the corner, however, he almost bumped into three figures. Of course, that never happened as stopped immediately, while the three figures instantly moved to the side of the walls to grant him a wide berth to keep walking.

Quickly looking at the group, Sygil realised they were some of the Pleiades maids from the other day.

_Wonder where they're going?_ He ultimately paid them no heed however, he had his own objective in mind, and so he continued walking by them to the Throne Room, barely granting them a second glance.

He kept walking for several seconds, until he could hear several footsteps behind him.

Turning around, he was greeted with the sight of the same three maids walking behind him. Upon facing them, they stopped immediately, looking at him.

_Okay?_

Ignoring them, he continued on his destination, coming to a branch in the hallway. Taking a left to the Throne Room, he expected the maids to perhaps go elsewhere. Except they didn't. The footsteps followed him to the left.

Stopping, Sygil faced them again, this time scrutinising them for anything unusual. Other than an emotionless expression on their faces, there was nothing visually unusual as far was he was are compared to the last time he saw them.

_Though, wearing literal maid outfits as combat armour seems unusual, but this guild has a weird fetish problem anyways._

He was aware by now that the NPC's were capable of displaying some sentience. So, he tried his luck with a question.

"Can I help you lovely ladies?" No need to be rude.

However, no-one responded. As per the norm for these NPC's it would seem. And now, Sygil was becoming suspicious.

_Why are they following me._ He narrowed his eyes, hand subconsciously extended, ready to draw his sabre to block any attack that might come his way.

He was too desperate to take any chances at this stage. His life was on the line with his research and the server shutting down in several days, and he was not going to risk getting stabbed in the back by a mere bunch of computer-generated NPC's.

The tension started to build, but fortunately, it never came to blows as Momonga's voice called out from the Throne Room doorway.

"Sygil! Great to see you, I was gonna message you in a minute!"

The tension between Sygil and the Pleiades dissipated as Momonga walked up to Sygil.

"I see you have your own personal harem now!" joked Momonga.

Sygil rolled his eyes and snorted as he faced Momonga, dropping his hand to his side.

"I highly doubt that Momonga."

Momonga held his skeletal hands placatingly. "I was just joking Sygil."

Sygil shook his head slightly. "Whatever. Have you seen Albedo by chance?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, she should be in the Throne Room as always. Why?"

"I just need to check something is all."

"Like this?" Momonga pulled out a ring of Ains Ooal Gown, holding it out to show Sygil.

Sygil furrowed his brows, but Momonga spoke again.

"You forgot to grab it from Albedo the other day, so I took it back from her to hold instead."

"Well thanks Momonga." Sygil made to reach for it, but Momonga pulled his hand back, pulling the ring out of reach.

"Ah-ah-ah. I want something to pay me back for this," continued Momonga coyly.

"Really now? Like what?"

Momonga placed a hand under his chin as if adopting a thinking pose, keeping the ring out of reach the whole time, before finally speaking.

"How about you play a song for me on the piano? I'd like to hear that."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you don't get the ring back," replied Momonga cheekily.

Sygil glared back at Momonga lightly, before ceding to his wish.

"Very well. If I play one song, you will give back the ring."

"Of course," Momonga was happy now.

"I'll teleport us to the theatre. Do you want to bring your little harem with you as well?"

Sygil gritted his teeth at Momonga's insinuation.

"They're not – " "I know I know! I just find it amusing is all."

Sygil sighed before muttering. "So it would seem."

"Normally they're all stationed outside the Throne Room. Kinda for a reason too. I appreciate you at least not taking them all."

_What?_

"But I didn't take them?" Now Sygil was curious.

"Really? Hmm. That's strange then. Well, I'll send them back to their sisters."

_Indeed._ Now he felt even more wary of the maids behind him.

Momonga opened the portal and gestured for Sygil to enter. As he followed Sygil through, the portal closed.

* * *

Sygil had never been to the theatre; until the other day, he had never heard of it. Like the rest of Nazarick, it was impressive.

A large stage could be seen at the far end of the room, with golden-trimmed crimson curtains pulled open at half-draw. What looked to be a black Grand Piano rested in the centre of the stage with its lid open.

A range of beautiful chairs and tables for dining or celebrating were carefully arrayed at the front of the stage, while several chandeliers hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room completely.

The walls on the side contained a mix of paintings and small statues and other sculptures. A red velvet carpet adorned the pathway leading to the stage, and dark timber floor boards were exposed underneath the tables.

Overall, the room was astonishing to look at.

"Well…" gestured Momonga to the piano waiting on the stage.

Sygil took a deep breath before gently exhaling. He began to methodically walk towards the piano. Meanwhile, Momonga took a seat near the front of the theatre to get a good view of Sygil and the Piano.

Sygil climbed the steps, wondering if the piano would even work. For all he knew, it could be purely for cosmetic purposes and not even function due to in-game limitations. Regardless, he went up to the piano and pulled the seat out before calmly sitting down. He could lie to Momonga and say the piano wasn't working at all, but such a lie was detestable. Besides, it couldn't really hurt to play a little bit of piano if it did work. He seldom got the chance to anyways, so why not take it if he could?

* * *

Sygil experimentally placed a finger on a random key in the higher octave. A high-pitched E-note reverberated around the theatre, much louder than he would have expected. The fact the piano also worked was pleasantly surprising.

Experimenting with another note, he depressed the Middle-C key, and was rewarded with the appropriate sound.

He tested the sustain and damper pedals to see if they indeed did work as he held the note before letting go of the key. The sound was softer and held.

_Nice_.

He decided to perform a glissando from the highest key to the lowest, and was rewarded with all of the keys providing a sound.

Seemingly satisfied, he sat in brief silence as he pondered on what to perform. Meanwhile, Momonga and the maids watched on with anticipation.

After some consideration, he deliberated on the piece he wanted to perform, and let his hands take over as he played the first notes of the song. The song? A piece he remembered from a long time ago. A piece called _Hungarian Sonata_.

As Sygil played the song, utilising the piano to its fullest potential, Momonga couldn't help but be mesmerised by not just the song itself, but also the controlled, precise yet calm movements of Sygil's hands and fingers.

He wasn't an expert on piano by any means, but even he could appreciate how nice it sounded to the ears and the level of skill required.

_Wonder what it would be like on a real piano, _thought Momonga.

As Sygil finished the song, Momonga applauded.

"That was actually really good Sygil. How long have you been playing for?"

Sygil stood up, pushing the stool back in, much to the disappointment of Momonga and secretly the maids.

"A long time, my friend. A long time."

Momonga nodded. "I see. Would you actually like to play for the other guild members when they join during the last hours? They would probably like it. Would make for an even better send-off."

Sygil shrugged however. "We'll see."

Momonga nodded in acceptance. "Well. It was good hearing you play. I'm gonna head to the Meeting Room. Hero-Hero should log on soon, he said."

Sygil walked off of the stage to Momonga. "Of course. Before you go, however…." He extended his gloved palm towards Momonga.

"Oh. Of course. Here you go." Momonga produced and dropped the ring into Sygil's open palm, who smiled sharply before placing the ring on.

"Thank you, Guild-Master," and with that, Sygil teleported back to the Great Library, hoping to finish his research.

* * *

"FUCK!" Sygil's shout could be heard across the entirety of the Great Library. While being loud in a library was often frowned upon, in the context of his current situation, it was well justified.

It was the day of the server shutdown, and only an hour remained before the game would forever close. While that wasn't the cause of his anger, it was the finished books before him that were.

He had finished going through all of the relevant books, hoping to find something, anything! Of course, nothing was ever truly easy, and the books before ultimately yielded nothing other than half-baked concepts that ultimately relied on a range of herbs, spells or other rubbish nonsense to help him. While some of it might be of practical significance, he lacked any of the actual ingredients or components, or even the know-how to craft such concoctions. And even then, it was all based on skewed theory.

"All this time, and I have NOTHING! For fuck's SAAAAAKE!" In a rush of anger he conjured a destructive wave of shadows and threw his hand forth in the direction of the books in the library. The books didn't stand a chance as a wave of destructive shadows crashed through all of the books, destroying much of the library in Sygil's fit of rage. Meanwhile, his two NPC's silently watched on with monotone expressions.

Sygil clenched both his fists and his teeth as he snarled at the offending books sitting on the table before him.

"Fucking worthless!"

After trying to calm himself down, to no avail, he slumped down in the library chair.

He knew it was a foolish venture to place his faith in a virtual reality game, but the actual real-world knowledge stored within the library he was currently in was inadvertently invaluable and priceless. Though, upon looking at the destruction he had caused, it would seem past tense was more appropriate now.

Sighing as he rubbed his fingers through his hair, he realised there was nothing he could really do now. Yggdrasil was a pointless venture. All he had truly done was grant himself some extra time. Time that he had ultimately wasted.

_Such a foolish fucking gambit I took. I'm such an absolute _idiot_!_

The game was going to shut down in an hour, and he had no real plan of action now, no backup plan to fall to.

He sat there, trying to contemplate what other options he could try.

_I'll be back in the real world in an hour. Then this blasted infection is going to get worse. Urgh. What to do, what to do!_

Deciding that a walk would be a bit more productive to his thinking, he got up and left the NPC's alone in the desecrated library. Upon entering the hallway, he started thinking his options over.

He had several safe-houses with weapons, munitions, supplies and money to help him accumulate further mortal resources. But even then, they wouldn't be of any real value against Asphaestus, who was surely waiting for him to return, nor would they help cure his infection. And he had no real idea on how to cure a holy infection.

_Is this what happens to me? I lose my soul again, cursed to be forever a husk of my former self?_

He had forever prided himself on his mental fortitude and strength, his resilience to emotional strain, but now? For the first time in what seemed forever, he could feel himself truly despairing.

Nothing made sense any more. From the absurd behaviour of a simple video game interacting with his soul the way it did, to the fact the NPC's seemed to bear some semblance of actual sentience. To literal angels and demons and even gods existing! To him having the abilities he had, and yet still, despite all of that, not being able to understand it fully, or in some cases, even at all. There was nothing he could truly do now. All he could do was wait for the server to shut down and buy him an extra hour of life.

His only other option was somehow to convince an Angel to reverse the Holy curse, or enlist the help of one of his kind. A demon. And he didn't want to do that.

A demon would charge a steep price for such a service. A price he knew he wasn't willing to pay.

And an Angel would certainly run him through again to finish the job, and probably once more for good measure.

_Tch. Self-righteous bastards._

However, wallowing in despair was not productive at all. It was the final hour before the shutdown, and he was damned if he was going to let himself lose. He just needed to find a way.

"_Dammit_!" The muffled voice of Momonga could be heard behind some closed doors to his immediate right. Realising he had walked all the way to the Meeting Room, he curiously opened the doors to be greeted with an angry Momonga, who ranted to himself about his friends, abandonment and whatever other petty mortal bullshit that Sygil cared little for.

He was about to leave the Guild-Master alone when he called out to him.

"Sygil! You're still here?" Behind the genuine shock, there was a trace of hope in his voice.

"Yes. I never left."

Sygil wasn't overly interested in conversing with Momonga.

"Oh? That's good. Hero-Hero just left," Moomonga took a breath in misery. "And now it's just us left. No-one else has bothered to come on."

Sygil pursed his lips while nodding. Momonga's concerns were going in one ear and out the other.

"I see. Sorry to hear about that Momonga." They were just words, though, for he had bigger concerns on his mind.

"It's okay. I kinda did expect it. Most haven't been on in over a year, and some, like Touch-Me and Ulbert couldn't make it. So I was thinking of just spending the last little bit of time left to enjoy everything that my friends and I struggled for."

Momonga's word's seemed to strike a chord within Sygil, as memories of his struggles came forth. He could respect the desire to honour those memories before that's all they became; just memories.

Momonga stood up and walked slowly and deliberately towards the doorway where Sygil stood.

"I was hoping you could walk with me to the Throne Room, one last time." With him, he held a strange golden staff.

Sygil was intrigued by it, but ultimately didn't care. It meant nothing to him, especially within an hour.

"I kind of want to spend some time alone right now," started Sygil, but Momonga held a hand up.

"I got a message and friend request from someone claiming to be a friend of yours, is all."

_What?_ Now Sygil was confused.

"Friend of mine? First off, I don't really… have friends per se. Secondly, why are they asking you for that?" Sygil felt suspicious. _Not only that, but the game is closing in not even an hour, so why would they want to request me now?_

"That was my reaction also!" Exclaimed Momonga in concurrence. Though, upon realising how that statement sounded, he made quick to quickly correct himself.

"Er, I mean, concerning asking me. I didn't know you didn't have friends? I thought your army friends…." He trailed off concerned.

Sygil, however, deflected the question. "Stay on track Momonga. Who was asking for me?"

The pair started walking out of the Meeting Room and down the hall to the Throne Room.

"Oh. A player called… Asphaestus? I think that's how it's pronounced."

At that, Sygil couldn't help but widen his eyes.

_He's here?! That bastard's in the game!_

Momonga carried on, seemingly ignorant to the internal plight Sygil had.

"He was pretty adamant about meeting with you."

Before Momonga could react, Sygil was grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him roughly, borderline roaring in his face.

"What did you tell him?! What did you say!" he growled, face furrowed in anger and desperate pleading.

Momonga was surprised by his outburst, and brought his arms up to pull Sygil off of him.

"Nothing! Nothing! I assure you. I told him that if he wanted to meet with you, he had to organise it through you. I told him I would let you know, but after that he disconnected the call. Why, what's up, you seem pretty upset about that?"

Sygil's face turned dark.

"For plenty of good reasons Momonga. That fucker is bad news. Really bad news. You'd do best to stay clear of him if you value your life. Consider that my one piece of advice to you."

Momonga stayed silent at Sygil's exclamation. They both finished their walk in silence to the Throne Room, one person pondering the absurdity of the situation, the other fuming at it.

As they came to the Throne Room, the Pleiades and Sebas stood silently waiting. Sygil was about to enter, but Momonga seemed to stop and admire the group of NPC's.

Sygil opened the doors, vaguely overhearing Momonga ordering the NPC's to follow him. He had too much on his mind.

_What is Asphaestus doing here? How'd the bastard track me?_ A million questions raced through his mind, none with any solid answers.

Momonga walked up to the throne itself, taking a seat, while ordering the Pleiades and Sebas to stand at the base of the steps leading to the throne.

"Hey Sygil? You alright? Just try to relax. We only have a couple minutes left before it's all over anyways. You'll be fine."

He pondered Momonga's words. Technically, there was some truth. Asphaestus, realistically, wouldn't be able to attack him in game due to Nazarick's fortifications without being detected. And he even if he did have to fight him, due to the in-game limitations, the fight should theoretically be pretty well balanced for both of them. And with only a couple minutes to spare, the odds were astronomically low.

_Perhaps, it's best to enjoy a couple minutes of peace before it all comes crashing down._

"Yeah. You're probably right," responded Sygil lightly, before walking up to Momonga, who was currently accessing Albedo's settings, if judging by the orange box before her.

"What exactly are you doing?" he inquired, curious as to Momonga's actions.

"Ah nothing," stammered Momonga sheepishly. Sygil didn't buy it however, which was evident when he crossed his arms and quirked his eyebrow questioningly.

"I figured it's the last day so no-one is going to know or care. I just edited some of Albedo's settings is all." For such an innocent seeming thing, Momonga sure sounded embarrassed. However, Sygil didn't press for details.

"Actually, that gives me an idea." And judging by the mischievous undertone in Momonga's voice, it probably wasn't a good one. But ultimately, he didn't care. In a matter of minutes, he was going to be ejected back into the real world, and then the race would be on.

He pulled off the Ring of Ains Ooal Gown to examine one last time, vaguely overhearing Momonga call Lupusregina over to him. He also saw the ring of creation for the NPC's adorned on his index finger, reminding him of his two NPC's he created.

He could overhear Momonga trying to suppress his laughter, piquing his interest one last time.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just I was reminded of you and your harem the other day, hehe."

Sygil's eyebrow twitched. "What…?"

"It's nothing," chuckled the undead overlord as he dismissed the maid back into formation.

"Kneel," he commanded to the Pleiades and Sebas, while Sygil watched on.

The countdown was now in the seconds.

0.00.45

0.00.44

0.00.43….

"Well Sygil," began Momonga.

"It was fun while it lasted. Out of curiosity, what was it you were exactly reading in the library?"

0.00.34

0.00.33…

Sygil pondered how he should respond briefly, but decided against. There was no need for Momonga to concern himself over such dangerous real-world matters.

"Nothing really. Just looking for ideas for a story is all." An innocent lie, but a necessary one. No need to risk his cover or safety simply because a mortal wanted to satiate his own curiosity. Especially with Asphaestus on the loose nearby.

0.00.23

0.00.22…

"Oh. I see. You'll have to tell me all about in when we meet up in Yggdrasil 2."

Sygil had to resist snorting in amusement. Once the server closed down, he was going to sort this mess out. And that would take time he couldn't afford nor wanted to spend with Momonga. It wasn't anything personal against him, he just had too many things to deal with and resolve. And, hopefully atone for, as he thought of his sister again.

"We'll see…"

0.00.10

0.00.09…

Momonga briefly glanced up at Sygil who was now standing to the side of the Pleiades, holding a ring between his forefinger and thumb.

"See you later someday then. Take care, Sygil."

0.00.05

"You too."

0.00.03

0.00.02

0.00.01

0.00.00

The second the clock timer hit zero, Momonga expected to be forcefully logged off, not find the game to keep running after the countdown. Nor was he prepared to hear the most agonised, blood-curling scream of his life….

* * *

**Authors Note: Yay! We're all done with the sappy boring stuff and exposition! These past three chapters have been an absolute bitch to write; so many edits, rewrites, more edits and more rewrites. Now we can get onto the ACTUAL story.  
**

** I like to view these chapters as essentially a "prologue" for this story. **

** Now as much as I would like to address some concerns and questions you have considering the current direction of this story and choices made (and I know you probably have a few, and likely know which ones *cough cough Momonga**), I will be saving it for when I release the next chapter, because I know you will have even more questions following that chapter likely, and I don't want to potentially spoil anything right now. So I will answer them all there, without giving spoilers of course. Regardless, if you do have any questions, feel free to post them and I will hopefully address them by next chapter. And maybe tell me your thoughts on where you think this is all going? I think I know where you think it's going...  
**

** The aim of these past chapters have been to establish all of the characters and provide some justification for things, especially later on in the story. Nothing has been told just for the sake of fanservice (though I guess writing a fanfic does count?), it will all play a relevant role to be explored later on in the story. To that end, hopefully by now you understand who Sygil is, somewhat his history and abilities (and maybe motives?). I also hope I fleshed out the actual canon characters so far. Touch-Me and Ulbert were fun to write, I just hope I didn't overdo it or make it seem out of character, but so far I haven't heard complaints.**

**Next chapter will be out in no more than a week. A long time to stew, yes, but I still have many things to edit and correct so far. To that end, please let me know if you find issues with this story and where, no matter what they are, and hopefully I can address them all in next week's chapter.**


	9. Welcome to the New World (Part 1)

**Disclaimer at the start of the first chapter, but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content.**

* * *

The Official Rating of this story: **T will be changed to M officially on the 1st February 2020.**

* * *

**Important Author's note at the bottom, including answers to some potential questions you may or may not have (no spoilers though).**

* * *

**Suggested age rating from this chapter is: M**

\- Graphic and bloody violence

\- Some language

* * *

**Welcome to the New World (Pt. 1)**

**Three Years (36 months) before the arrival of Momonga…..**

All he could feel was pain. Absolute, agonising, burning pain. It was like a fire across his whole body, burning every single fibre in his body. The worst of it, however, stemmed from the wound in shoulder. Like a mix between a firestorm and an acid bath, the pain was blinding. He couldn't even hear himself scream in pain as the world flashed from a brightly lit throne room bathed in white light, to dark starry night, though he wasn't coherent enough to notice the change. He could vaguely feel the sensation of falling, and what felt like wind buffeting against his body. But the pain overrode everything. It consumed him, his focus and his whole world.

The pain seemed to last for an eternity, as did the sensation of falling, and in that time, he tightened his grip around his injury in a vain attempt to try and comfort himself and squeeze the pain out, reduced nothing to but a basic primal instinct.

The feeling of falling was suddenly and violently halted as he crashed into the ground, exploding dirt and grass everywhere, the sheer impact alone sufficient enough to shatter bones. Though, with the amount of pain he was in, the impact and associated pain failed to even register.

He didn't feel himself roll around, tumbling from the fall and impact before coming to a stop, automatically curling into a ball and clenching his injury with such fervour and a vice-like grip.

It took what felt like forever for the pain to begin to recede, and with it, Sygil could feel his senses returning.

He could hear his own ragged breathing as breathed in actual air of the real world. Under normal circumstances, it would have been absolutely satisfying, but currently, he was too engrossed in his own world, trying to recover from some of the worst pain he had felt ever.

It took several minutes for him to feel somewhat calm enough to straighten out and lay on his back.

_That was… the most… horrific return to the real world. _The pain had felt much worse on this return to the real world. Normally it would be a more minor attack of pain that would quickly go away. This attack, though, was much more severe and debilitating.

As he lay there on his back, slowly loosening his clutch on his shoulder, he could begin to feel the long, soft blades of grass he was laying on. He could slowly make out the starry night sky above him, and he could feel the gentle, cool breeze against his skin.

As his mind cleared and the pain became nothing more than a memory, he sat upright, actually taking in his surroundings.

The night sky, while still dark, was enough to help illuminate vague silhouettes and shapes in the distance.

Currently, he was situated on top of a hill in the middle of a small crater from his fall impact. In front of him, lie a dense and thick forest, but aside from the basic shape of the massive trees, he wasn't able to clearly see inside it. Otherwise, all around him lay grassy plains and hills with scattered shrubs and the odd tree.

As he loosened his grip on his injured shoulder, he could feel it start to flare up, and instinctively tightened his grip. It seemed to work and the pain began to fade away again.

Staring around him, he felt incredibly vulnerable.

He was stuck with a debilitating injury, trapped in the middle of nowhere, and completely exposed sitting on top of the hill. It was a wonder Asphaestus or some other cretin hadn't ambushed him yet.

At the thought of Asphaestus, his eyes widened and he forced himself to stand up.

_Where is that bastard?!_

Looking around, there was no-one to be seen, but then again considering how dark it was, he may be wrong.

While he needed to find a way to treat his injury, something he was struggling with, his first priority was to get out of the open.

_I'm way too exposed_.

Looking at the forest, he estimated it was probably less than a kilometre away, something manageable, but it did leave him exposed in the interim. He could only hope the cover of darkness would help him from anyone watching him.

So, he began his trek forth, ignoring his battered limbs and dirtied clothes. He would need to change that soon.

* * *

After several minutes of walking, he reached the forest. It was pitch black inside, the foliage and upper canopies preventing even the smallest traces of light from penetrating deep into it. The trees were twisted and many had gnarled roots.

Letting go of his injured shoulder, no pain returned. For now. He was able to somewhat freely move his arm, meaning he had two free hands to deal with anybody that might try to get the jump on him. While he doubted he was at immediate risk of attack, it paid to be cautious.

And so, he took his first steps into the forest, hoping to eventually come across civilisation or someone so he could get on track to fighting against Asphaestus.

_I need to know where I am first. Being dumped in the middle of nowhere was not part of the plan, nor should it have happened. I should have been placed back into the room._

He was surprised at having ended up in a the middle of nowhere. Though, perhaps it counted as a blessing disguise.

_If Asphaestus was able to track me in Yggdrasil, then he probably was capable of tracking down the safehouse I was in. _

He didn't know for sure though.

_I need to find a way to one of my other safehouses then. But first, I need to find where I am._

Stumbling through the forest, he had to avoid tripping over stones, roots and other materials masked by the darkness. Several patches of light from the stars and moon managed to break through in several openings in the canopy randomly, and he relied on those to help him navigate forest.

He had no real sense of direction, but going in a straight line was bound to end somewhere. At least, until the sun came up.

As he walked through the forest, something didn't seem right, though. Like the forest was missing something. But he failed to know what it was. So, regardless he pushed on. Until he heard it.

A defining roar could be heard around him, followed by the crashing of foliage as something big lumbered towards him.

Sygil adopted a guard stance and prepared to summon his sabre in the event he needed it.

The roar did not sound like any animal roar he had ever heard, and once the culprit finally crashed through the foliage, the beast before looked nothing like any creature from the real world he had seen, or ever would expect to see.

It was hard to see it clearly in the darkness, but it stood at approximately 3 metres tall, with a humanoid shape. The arms appeared to be somewhat larger compared to its body, as if ill-proportioned. However, the cause of concern for Sygil was not the grotesque shape of the thing, nor the unnatural noises in made, but rather the makeshift weapon it held that was being swung overhead to crush him.

He wasted no time in sidestepping the attack, feeling the impact reverberate in the ground and dust blown into his body and all around.

_Fuck using a sword for this thing_. He opted to go hardcore and kill this thing the easy way.

Before the beast could react, he summoned several shadow spikes to crash into the beast.

The darkness seemed to swirl around as the unnatural laws obeyed his command, and the beast didn't have a chance to raise its makeshift club before it was impaled by tens of needle-like shadows, some thin, many large.

The beast didn't have a chance to scream or roar, instead gurgling out in pain as every organ and muscle structure was impaled, including it's pathetic voice box.

Sygil didn't need to see the blood to know he had done his job successfully, and after several seconds of letting the beast's life force drain away, he retracted the shadows, allowing the fresh corpse to hit the ground face-first with a loud crash.

While he was confident the beast was dead, he still approached with caution. No need for any surprise tricks or another attacker.

In the distance, he could hear some soft hooting and screeching, as if some animals were aware of his victory, though he abstained from referring to it as that. It was literally a one-sided slaughter.

Prodding the corpse with his foot for a reaction, he was rewarded with no response to the stimulus. Satisfied, he crouched down in the darkness to try and examine the beast that attacked.

He could make out a deformed, grotesque shape that was seemingly lighter in colour, standing out a bit more in the darkness.

Grabbing it by both shoulders, it was as heavy as it looked when rolled it over, and only due to his more supernatural strength did he more easily accomplish the feat.

It had a rather ugly humanoid face, with a bulbous nose and squinted eyes. However, the amount of blood escaping from all of its open wounds made it difficult to immediately identify any further features.

As for what the beast itself was, he had no clue.

_What the hell is this thing? I never heard of anything like this existing back in the real world._

Whatever the beast was, it was not normal. However, it was too dark to properly analyse it, nor did he have the time.

Standing up, he looked in the direction thing came from, barely able to make out the disturbed trees, shrubs and foliage.

Ultimately, he decided against investigating where the _thing_ came from as he stood to gain little from it. It was better if he just kept going in the direction he was initially headed.

Taking one final cursory glance at the beast, he started to continue to his destination, carefully navigating through the foliage.

* * *

For what felt like an hour, he kept walking, slowly adapting to the darkness, both in vision and in spatial awareness. He spent less time tripping in the dark, but it was still hard to see.

Ahead, he could see a clearing which seemed to open up into a wider grass field. Seeing as he might have an opportunity to get a wider view of the surrounding vicinity, he decided to take a chance at going into the open. First, he just needed to cross the rest of the forest floor.

And he barely took a single step forward when he felt something directly under his foot, followed by the sound of moving air.

The next thing he knew something had latched around his ankle and hoisted him up into the air, hanging him upside down while what felt like a heavy duty net wrapped around his body, trapping him like an animal.

He was left hanging a good two metres from the ground, suspended upside down and his body and limbs pressed together tightly by the closed netting of the trap.

_Great! Just fucking great!_

He barely had several seconds to react to what just happened when he could hear the same hooting and howling sound from earlier when he encountered the strange beast, only this time it was much closer. It sounded as if multiple of these animals were flocking to his position. However, he paid little heed to it as he tried to free one of his arms so he could summon his sabre to cut himself down. Until the area he was in started to become illuminated by amber lights.

The chattering sound became much closer around him, and he started to realise it wasn't animals chattering.

_Is that people cheering?_

Perhaps this incident wasn't as annoying as it might have been. People meant he had access to a civilisation. Civilisation meant he could reorient himself and begin a plan of action to get back to a safehouse.

Those hopes were, however dashed as he got a glimpse at who his trappers were.

About seven figures exited from the foliage all around him below, carrying actual fire-torches to illuminate their paths.

All seven were female, dressed in an assortment of rather revealing leather and steel armour. They were each, from what he could see so far, equipped with an array of swords, bows, arrows and axes.

They, however, couldn't quite see his features due to the height of his suspension as well as the netting covering much of his body.

"Yeah! We finally got one!"

"About time!"

"I'm bloody starving!"

Their excited chatter continued for a good couple of seconds until one of the women stepped forth with a torch to better illuminate him. She was dressed in a much more elaborate set of less-revealing armour that somewhat offered more protection, covering the midriff, torso and hips much more effectively than essentially the metal/leather hybrid bikinis the other ragtag mob was wearing,

She wore what appeared to be steel-capped boots with steel greaves and vambraces. Meanwhile, leather faulds attached to a leather and steel chest-plate that completely covered her entire torso save for her neck, whilst leaving her shoulders exposed. An open faced helmet similar to what the romans wore covered protected her head, and engraved eagle wings could be seen jutting out from the sides, facing behind her.

The chatter died down as the, he assumed, leader of the group had a better look at their captive.

After a pregnant pause, she made her verdict with disappointment.

"It's a man. A worthless catch."

"Ew. So weak," sneered one of the other women.

_Bitch_, he retorted silently.

"So what are we to do with it then?"

"Ooh, do we eat it?"

"Can we use it as a fuck-toy?"

"No!" Commanded the same woman sharply. _Definitely the leader then_.

"Have some more couth! You were all raised and trained to be better than that."

That seemed to temporarily shut up the chatter, while the leader scrutinised him further, not like a piece of meat, but rather a predator sizing prey and deciding if it was worth even bothering.

She turned to face her group strictly, before proclaiming.

"This… _man_… is to be brought back to the elders. They will decide what is to be done with it. Only after, will we decide what can become of it. Do try to control yourself."

_Of all the people, I got captured by a primitive tribe!_ This couldn't do. He highly doubted they would be able to help him reconnect with _advanced_ civilisation. He needed to get out. But at the same time, he also needed to get his current location from them. At the very least he could then know where to head to next.

However, he also didn't like what their intentions with him were. So he decided to voice his opinion.

"Ladies! I would much appreciate you letting me go now."

Instead, he was greeted with a solid strike to the head with the broad side of a sword from one of the women below.

"Silence Man! Do not speak unless spoken to!"

The leader of the group stood silent, watching the events unfold.

Perhaps negotiation with _this_ group wasn't going to work, but it might with the tribal elders they were talking about.

While violence would be a lovely option to resort to, diplomacy would be more effective. Though, the way _that_ one bitch was prodding at him through the net with a sword was going to change his opinion pretty damn soon if she didn't stop. Fortunately, the same elder chastised her and she reluctantly stopped.

"Cut him down and bind him. Don't be too rough though," the leader spared a pitiful glance in his direction, "their kind tend to be weaker."

_The nerve of…._ Sygil bit his tongue. He was going to get nowhere with this one, so he might as well save his breath.

One of the women used her sword to cut him down, whilst three others caught him as he fell. He started to untangle himself from the netting, but the other women beat him to it and had him out in mere seconds. Before he could do anything though, two of them held his arms roughly behind his back, whilst a third used grabbed and cut some of the netting to tie his hands with. Another woman began patting him down for weapons. The next thing he could feel, she was tugging at what felt like a ring attached to his gloved hand.

_Wait? Ring? I don't have a ring._ However, that was low on his priorities.

It was as some of the women started to either ogle or jeer at him that he noticed the animal ears and furry tails connected to each of their bodies, save for their leader.

_What the fuck?_ _First a strange beast and now anthropomorphic people? What am I getting in to? What the hell is going on?_

He let them roughly lead him to wherever they were taking him as he pondered on his predicament. In the event things went truly south, he could break free and deal with the situation accordingly. But for now, this might be his best chance at getting back to civilisation.

As he walked, he questioned both his sanity and the situation before him, specifically the presence of animal people and strange beasts. Things he knew were not native to the Real World outside of the supernatural realm. And it most certainly did not feel like the supernatural realm to him. For starters, he was in a physical body, not a spirit form.

He felt a hand roughly shove him in the back to keep him moving forward.

He could still hear them cheering, jeering and hollering as he was lead like the prisoner he was. All except for the leader of the group. It would appear she was much more level-headed and, he daresay, mature in how she handled him, even if she did voice her distaste for him.

It still didn't excuse their roughhousing of him.

_They better have something of value…_

They walked for several more minutes, the torch-light illuminating their pathway, thus allowing them to traverse much more quickly. Meanwhile he ignored the group to the best of his abilities, focusing instead on the leader.

She carried herself with the stance of a professional warrior, and judging by some of the faint scar lines on her exposed skin, she was no stranger to combat either. She looked to be older than the others, but even then there was no denying her flawless beauty. More of a mature elegance, though he didn't bother to let himself get distracted by such thoughts.

Something told him of all the women that were holding him captive, so far she was the one that seemed to be the strongest.

They eventually came closer to a well-lit encampment within the forest. Wooden barricades surrounded a stone temple, with wooden torches lighting up the vicinity.

The temple looked similar to an ancient Aztec temple, though much smaller in size.

As he walked through the wooden entrance, he was greeted with the sight of many more of the strange animal people. Many had stopped what they were doing to watch the party return with its new captive, and many murmurs could be heard. Some were expressing disappointment, others concern. The whispers were ignored, however, as the party of women led him to the base of the temple before they halted. The leader wheeled to face him.

"Listen, and listen well, mortal man. You are about to meet the elders, where they will decide your fate. Do _not_ speak unless spoken to. Answer any and all questions they have about you truthfully. Do I make myself clear." There was a heavy warning undertone to her voice.

Sygil merely nodded his head slowly in affirmation, which seemed to satisfy her.

_We'll see, lady._

Said lady suddenly grabbed him by the arms from behind and started to lead him up the steps to the top of the temple, while the rest of the women gave them a wider berth. As he started to ascend the steps, he could faintly hear some of the murmurs and whispers start anew. He ignored them, however. Now was not the time to be concerned over the opinions of others, so instead he made a mental checklist of what he wanted to ask. Because, one way or another, whether these elders and their tribes-people liked it, he was getting answers!

As he ascended to the top of the steps, two small lit pyres could be seen, one on each side of the floor, illuminating the entirety of the temple top, casting deep dark shadows behind some of the support pillars. However, out of the immediate line of vision so as not to obstruct anyone who wanted to enter or leave the temple top. The night sky was blocked by a flat stone roof, and directly in front of him, elevated by another small set of steps, sat several figures on some stone seats. Behind them, a doorway led to inside the temple, but its contents were obscured by the lack of light that managed to penetrate inside.

The woman led him to the centre of the temple, directly in front of the elders, he assumed.

There were two people seated, though the one on the large throne-like slab was likely the head elder. The person sitting on the throne, however, was not as old as he expected; granted they still appeared to be somewhat older, the woman appeared to be in her mid-fifties. She was also one of the animal people as below. She was currently wearing an elaborate set of colourful robes, necklaces and an ornamental headpiece, mostly likely to show off her status. She indeed looked like he would have expected an Aztec ruler to look like, save for the golden, furry tail currently wrapping from behind her and onto her lap. She eyed him with slight curiosity.

The other woman sitting beside her on a smaller stone seat was dressed quite differently, however. She was dressed much like the woman holding her captive, wearing a suit of leather armour that adequately protected her entire torso, containing steel-coated leather faulds to protect her waist and hips. A steel breast-plate covered the leather chest-piece up to the base of the neck, leaving the throat and shoulders exposed. Leather vambraces, with steel-rim coating overlaid in intricate patterns adorned both her arms, while her thighs were exposed; a softer easy target to aim for in a fight. Leather greaves adorned both her lower legs, with steel plating wrapping around the shin in the same matching intricate pattern as the vambraces. Leather, patterned boots protruded from underneath the greaves, protecting her feet as she sat with her legs crossed. An open-face helmet with what appeared to be feathered wings on each side of her face jutted out in an open sweeping motion.

Upon looking around, he could see three more women dressed similarly as the apparent leader, including the woman holding him, now that he observed further. The only difference separating them from their leader was the level of intricacy and patterns on their armour. That and the sheathed swords and bow and quiver of arrows the rest adorned. It would appear they were part of the elite guard for this tribal woman. The most striking features that they all bore was the golden hair they wore back behind their helmets, and their eyes, which were a faded, greyish blue, like they had lost all life in them.

_Almost like angels, they are_. And it wasn't their beauty he was referring to, though they were indeed quite attractive, all looking to be about the same age; quite young at 30 he estimated.

"On your knees, mortal," commanded the woman holding him.

_That's a bold and arrogant statement_. No, he had had enough of being dictated to now. While he was willing to do some things for the long-term goals, by kneeling on demand he was portraying weakness, and that would likely prevent him from being granted information. Especially, considering the tribal people before him likely prided strength above all else. Then again, he may be wrong. But he wasn't going to kneel.

The woman holding his arm must have sensed his rebellion, as she suddenly looked furious, and roughly grabbing him by the shoulder, tried to push him onto his knees. "I said on your knees!"

However, her surprise was evident as he actually used his demonic strength to overpower hers. The result was she couldn't push him down. What he didn't let show on his face was his own surprise at her strength when she pushed.

_Fuck she's strong!_ He had to put considerable effort into standing as her strength seemed supernatural even.

_No mortal human should be able to possess this much strength!_ Indeed, she was strong, but so was he. The result was neither were able to move each other; a stalemate in a sudden contest of strength.

"Enough! It is clear our guest does not, or will not, kneel before me." The voice came from the animal-woman sitting on the larger throne, her sharp eyes watching him with interest. As were the other women, especially the armoured one sitting on the throne, who was eyeing him with a greater deal of interest now.

"Indeed," agreed Sygil.

Before any of the women could take offense or object, he continued.

"I would much prefer to be untied and released. I need to get to the nearest town or city as soon as possible." He listed his demand, hoping they would just comply for once. However, he somehow knew that they wouldn't just grant him what he wished for.

Indeed, as he was rewarded with a sudden strike to his temple from the woman holding him captive currently.

His question went ignored by the women. Instead the animal-woman directed a question at his immediate captor.

"So, Valera, why have you brought this… specimen… before me?" Her tone was dismissive of his existence as being considered an equal life-form, apparently.

The woman, named Valera, responded.

"The mortal man was caught in one of our traps by the training party. Unfortunately, he is the only catch for today. The only thing in his possession, save for his clothes, was a ring."

Valera's response, while respectful, was curt. As if she only respected the other woman out of requirement only.

"That is most unfortunate indeed," agreed the tribal leader sagely as Valera held the ring out. Upon quick glance, Sygil noticed something that suddenly made him more uncertain.

The ring Valera was holding out was the ring of summoning from Yggdrasil. The very one he used to create his two NPC's. _What is it doing here in the real world?_

"Give it to me," ordered Gallheia. One of the female guards from behind stepped out to retrieve the ring from Valera before depositing it in the extended hand of Gallheia, before resuming her post.

Gallheia held the ring up, admiring its design and examining it in general.

"A magic ring. Quite a powerful one too, it would seem. It will do quite well." Gallheia allowed a small smile to form on her face, before she addressed the matter concerning Sygil.

"As for the specimen, I do thank you for bringing it before me. It might serve our tribe well," continued the tribal leader, referring to him.

Valera bowed abruptly, "of course, Mistress Gallheia."

Gallheia merely nodded her head to acknowledge Valera. "Thank-you for your service. Now, I wish to question it for myself."

"For starters, I am not an _it_." Began Sygil before Gallheia could continue.

The armoured woman sitting beside Gallheia narrowed her eyes, waving her hand to prevent Valera from striking him again..

"You should watch your tone, Man. You are my prisoner," sneered Gallheia. "Therefore, you only speak when spoken to! Or I'll see to it your tongue is removed."

Sygil, however, was having none of it.

"Yeeeaaaaaah, " drawled Sygil uncaringly. "Lady, it is precisely because you think you have me as your prisoner that I'm not going to conform to that."

The armoured guards behind them bristled at that, whilst the armoured woman on the throne seemed to tighten her facial muscles, intensifying her glare. Gallheia, however, was completely perturbed and, he daresay, even mortified.

"I think you don't realise how much of a precarious position you are in," warned the armoured woman on the second throne.

Sygil had to struggle to prevent rolling his eyes, but the same couldn't be said for his tongue.

"Much more than you realise," he replied sarcastically.

His quip, on second-thought, was perhaps not the greatest thing, as Valera backhanded him across the face with sufficient force to actually land him in his back. Apparently, she wasn't holding back this time after their contest of strength.

By now, Sygil was starting to sport a light bruise on his face.

"Jeez lady, do you have to be so – " "-SILENCE!" Roared Gallheia.

"Why were you trespassing on our sacred lands?" It was more of a demand than a question.

"I'm a little lost currently. I was hoping you could point me to the nearest town or city."

Gallheia beckoned to Valera, who seemed to acknowledge the hidden message and roughly picked him up only to through him face first into the ground before placing a steel capped boot onto his head, applying pressure as she seemingly ground him into the stone.

"Do not lie to me again," warned Gallheia. "Why were you found on our sacred lands!"

"Jesus Christ, I'm not lying! Now can you call off Valera so she doesn't crush my skull into oblivion!"

The armoured women seemed to slightly perk up in interest, for some reason, however Gallheia seemed offended for some reason.

"Do NOT, ever speak the names of the messengers of God with your wretched tongue, man!"

_Wow. These people take the name of Christ seriously!_

"Fair enough," he grunted. "I promise to not use the Lord's name in vain around you, now can you get Valera to step off of my head, for the second time. Please." He added the last part. He really was making a poor impression.

It seemed to infuriate Gallheia and several of the other women however.

However, before their rage could be carried over, the armoured woman gently raised a hand to quiet them. Even Gallheia stopped before she could execute her rage on him in some manner.

The armoured woman sat silent for several seconds before finally speaking for the first time with a strong, angelic voice that matched her features.

"What is your name, mortal."

"Well it's not mortal!" Everyone seemed to bristle at the somewhat indignant tone he used with the woman. However, before anyone could get further angry, he continued, much more calmly.

"It's Sygil. And to whom do I have the illustrious honour of speaking with."

The woman so far had spoken to him much more calmly and respectfully, despite the glare she had sent him. Perhaps he could broach a new foot with her and try to gain information from her. If that failed, then he hoped god would have mercy on these poor bastards souls by the time he was done with them.

The woman spoke regally. "I am Aries. Why are you here, mortal?"

"I already told you. I'm lost. Now, if you could so graciously point me in the direction of the nearest city or town, I will be gladly on my way."

Aries seemed to watch him with trepidation for what seemed like an eternity, before she finally responded.

"And why are you lost, mortal?"

He gritted his teeth when she referred to him as such. _I just gave you my name, you pompous, arrogant primitive!_

However, he ignored that, and decided to answer the question. The sooner he got answers, the better.

"Because I woke up in a forest with no bearing of my location whatsoever."

_Pretty sure that meets the definition of lost._

Gallheia interjected, however.

"Man, you have been granted a rare of honour of being able to converse with a messenger of god! She has graced you with an opportunity to prove your intentions, so the least you could do is be respectful!"

_I am!_

"With all due respect, you having my skull crushed face-first into the stone is not leaving the best impression," he stated matter-of-factly.

"And neither is your lack of couth, Man," spat Gallheia.

"I have a name, you know. It's not just _man_," he retorted.

Gallheia narrowed her eyes.

"Then quit being weak and pathetic, like the rest of your kind. Your actions only prove the words of the Messengers of God!"

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow," he replied, beginning to lose his patience.

_If I don't get my answers in the next couple of minutes, I'm getting them the old-fashioned way._

Gallheia beckoned to Valera, who released her boot from his head and hoisted him up by his tied arms.

"Your kind bring nothing but war and death. Your kind are brutish, vile and stupid, and you are no exception. It was decreed by the Messengers of God themselves as per the old teachings. Unless you can provide anything else of value to us, you will be taken to the pits to help provide the seed to birth many warriors for us."

_WHAT?!_

"Unfortunately, I don't have time for that, I really need to reach the nearest town or city!"

"Then what's your intention, Man? All others of your kind would pounce on the opportunity to relish in your desires."

"Yeah, well, business before pleasure, as the saying goes. So, can you please point me to the nearest town or city, or at the very least, tell me where I am?"

Gallheia ignored him, however.

"You will serve our warriors, whether you like it or not. Valera. Take him to the pits." Gallheia waved him away dismissively.

However, Sygil retorted as he felt Valera pull on his arm.

"For a bunch supposed warriors, you sure are dishonourable, not even granting me a choice. Your Gods must think poorly on you."

It was a gamble, but if this failed, then he was going to have to _persuade_ them using less savoury methods. Less savoury to them, that is.

Gallheia looked indignant at his accusation, but Aries seemed intrigued by what he said.

"Valera, wait." Gallheia shot a look at Aries.

"Perhaps the mortal man is right." Gallheia looked incredulous at Aries statement.

Aries continued with the same regal tone, "We are a culture of warriors; that is how each and every one of us have been raised. It is how you were raised." The last part was directed at Gallheia.

"I think it would be best if he was indeed granted a chance to prove himself. To prove and earn his freedom. Wouldn't you agree?"

Gallheia seemed reluctant and Sygil swore he could hear the grinding of her teeth as she relented.

"Indeed, your words of wisdom perhaps are correct, _Aries_," ceded Gallheia.

Gallheia stood up to full height, stepping from the throne steps to Sygil's level, scrutinising every fibre of his being as if he were some disease.

"It doesn't change the fact that it intruded on our territory," her head suddenly snapped to Valera.

"Valera! Take it to the pits in the meantime. However, do not let anyone near it yet. I have much to discuss with Aries. Until we reach a consensus, no-one is to go near it."

Valera bowed curtly. "As you decree, your majesty."

Valera hardly sounded enthusiastic, but nonetheless dutifully complied. Meanwhile, Sygil reflected on his situation.

He _could_ use brute force to make them submit, kill off anyone that tried to stop him, and then extract the information he wanted. However, Valera's physical strength alone was cause for concern. That, and this Aries woman was going to be having a discussion with Gallheia determining his fate. He could wait for the verdict, and depending on what it was, he would decide on his next course of action. Honestly, he was surprised at his own patience with them, even if it was limited.

_Guess years of life experience have paid off._

In the meantime, he wanted to probe Valera and the others for any strengths and weaknesses if things did get messy, which they likely would. He wanted every possible advantage there was, and knowledge was power.

Valera grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and pushed him along to head back down the steps, and he shot one final glance at Aries and Gallheia as they watched him leave, before they began to converse.

* * *

At this stage, Sygil was likely out of earshot, but neither of the two could care less. Gallheia was the first to begin.

"Aries. I truly respect your wisdom and the teachings you have provided to us over the generations. You and your order have been invaluable to us, and for that I… _we_, are truly all grateful to you. However. This thing that has been brought before us is an opportunity to help ensure our clan can survive another generation. And I cannot, for all our sakes, let it slip by."

Aries responded softly, "I know. However, we provided our teachings to your clan so they can be used for the betterment of yourselves. To be honourable. What you are doing is instead creating an endless cycle of hatred."

"It is you who taught us that Men should be feared due to how destructive they are. How they revel in their vile emotions for the sake of self-pleasure and greed."

"To be wary of their race! Not to conduct needless campaigns of destruction against them purely to propagate your numbers and make you the new tyrant on the block. What you are doing is the exact same as those amongst their ranks who would do the same to you. Only you justify your actions as representative for the needs of the whole clan." Aries was frowning, but she refused to let her voice rise, but the concern was evident in her tone.

"You have an opportunity to mend the damage you have helped cause! You should take it. Not to help yourself in the short-term, but for the long-term." By now, there was slight pleading in Aries voice.

Gallheia refused to look at her, however, staring forward with resolute conviction in her voice. "And I am thinking of the long-term. _It_ will benefit the clan for a long time, providing us with the newest generation of warriors until it is no longer capable of doing so. It is what you taught us to do."

"Do NOT try to deliberately misinterpret our teachings, _mortal_. We provided you with the knowledge and training to become stronger. To make your clan stronger, just as your ancestors were." There was a warning tone underneath Aries voice as she continued.

"Not to be used selfishly to do unto others as you see fit."

Gallheia abruptly wheeled on Aries, looking coldly at her.

"Need I remind you that your loyalties lie to the clan and its leaders. Since I am only looking out for the best for my clan, you are obliged to both grant me your blessing _and_ obey my commands. That is what was stipulated by the founders of the tribe, and what you agreed to. Was it not?"

Aries had to resist the temptation to grit her teeth, so she adopted a neutral tone. "That is correct, your majesty."

Gallheia smirked. "Then do as your leader decrees."

Aries narrowed her eyes, not liking the overconfident mortal before her. However, before she could say anything, Gallheia continued, oblivious and uncaring to Aries' concerns.

"I will allow for _it_ to have a chance to earn its freedom then, seeing as you are so persistent."

Aries felt somewhat relieved at Gallheia's verdict.

"However," she continued. "He must earn his freedom through combat. A fight against some of our warriors, so as to prove their mettle and assure you that your teachings have not been discarded. If _it_ can survive against _all_ of my chosen warriors, my champions…. Then _it_ will be free to leave. If it isn't strong enough, then it deserves it fate. You will, under NO circumstances, intervene. Nor will your order. Am I clear Aries."

Aries pursed her lips, a pregnant pause before she finally relented to the expecting woman. "As you wish, your majesty."

"Good." Gallheia strode over and carefully sat back down on her throne in a matter befitting of a ruler, albeit somewhat arrogantly, her tail curling back around onto her lap.

"The Trial for Manumission will occur one hour after sunrise. See to it that the arena is adequately prepared."

Aries dipped her head respectfully. "As you wish."

She was about to stand up, when suddenly Gallheia spoke warningly one last time.

"Aries. While you may be a Messenger of God as you proclaim, if you ever go behind my back to orchestrate a decision on my behalf again like you just did, there will be consequences. Don't ever go behind my back again."

Aries paused briefly, before curtly replying. "Of course, you majesty."

With that, she retired to the back room of the temple, acknowledging a small nod at the three Order members who had solemn looks upon their faces.

They had all made a mistake, and now they were paying the price for it.

* * *

Sygil was lead down the bottom of the steps and across a basic street, walking by several wooden huts and make-shift houses. He only knew his destination was the so-called _pits_.

He only let Valera lead him since he needed information, and diplomacy left less questions than a considerable body-count did. Especially to nosy Angels. However, if these animal-people didn't stop their incessant jeering and leering, he was going to have a pretty big change of heart soon.

As he was marched through the encampment towards his temporary holding pen, he observed the residents of the village.

Other than the obvious lack of actual humans so far, there were no males around. The village seemed comprised solely of females, all of whom wore an assortment of leather, steel, fur or combination armour and clothing. Though clothing was a liberal definition, as the vast majority seemed intent and comfortable displaying as much skin as possible, adopting 'armour bikinis' and what appeared to be 'short-shorts' and the armour equivalent of a workout bra.

Frankly, he refused to believe they wore armour, as all of their vitals appeared rather exposed.

There were a few children scattered randomly amongst the women and fortunately they had the decency to dress somewhat more appropriately. Again, however, all of the children were young girls, probably between 8 and 11. No males present.

Valera shoved him, breaking him from his observations.

"This way, mortal," she ordered curtly with disinterest.

Ignoring her attitude, he complied, and was led down an embankment to where three brightly lit wooden cages sat, half buried in the ground.

Upon closer inspection as they neared them, they were actually pits, as the name was suggested, with a wooden cage above to prevent escape.

He could escape in a jiffy if he wanted to, using a number of means, so he wasn't concerned for now. He just hoped that they would move it along, because if he was going to be stuck in here for more than a few hours, he was breaking out and getting answers.

Valera opened the middle pit, and roughly pulled him in before giving him a final shove.

"Wait here until ordered otherwise," stated Valera coldly.

"You do know my name, right? I literally gave it not even ten minutes ago; the least you could do is actually use it." His eye twitched with slight irritation.

Valera ignored him and stood posted outside his current prison, hand on the hilt of her sword, facing to the side to both watch him out of the corner of her eye, and watch any potential arrivals.

Accepting that the woman likely wouldn't respond, he decided to use his downtime to start going over his plans and what he currently knew; for starters, his predicament.

Currently, he faced several mysteries. The most glaring being who the animal people with ears and tails were. As far as he was aware, no such beings existed on earth.

The second concerning issue was Valera's supernatural strength.

Now, there was no denying that, with sufficient strength and willpower, humans could become exceptionally strong, but the strength required to match his was supernatural.

It was confusing and, frankly, concerning. Such strength was indicative of a supernatural entity such as an Angel or a Demon.

Then there was the whole giant beast incident earlier. He had no real lead or idea where to begin with that one, so he saved it for later reference in the future.

And last, but certainly not least, was the Ring of Summoning from Yggdrasil. _What is it doing here, in the real world?_ It should not have transferred over when he was logged out of Yggdrasil, yet it was. So why?

Realising he was going to get nowhere with these questions currently, he decided against further questioning them and instead decided to focus on his next plan of action once he was back into civilisation.

_First step, find out where I am. From there, I can relocate to the nearest safehouse. The souls I got from Vessie and her gang should me over long enough to organise myself properly and actually plan how to deal with the holy injury._

Over the next hour, he pondered on the specifics of his plan of action, and how he could go about treating the holy injury. He allowed himself to become lost in thought as he sat calmly cross-legged. He could afford a couple hours for the 'elders' to come to a conclusion.

It was about an hour later that he could hear someone approaching. Looking up casually, he saw Valera stiffen to attention as a figure approached.

He couldn't see who due to the depth of the pit, so he stood up, lightly dusting himself as he did so, before he walked closer to the cage where Valera stood.

It didn't take long for him to realise who the figure was, due to both the armour and the voice that spoke.

"Valera. You can stand down," reassured Aries. And Valera did that, much more enthusiastically than he would have expected considering Gallheia's orders of no contact.

"Aries. What brings you here?"

Sygil listened on with interest, deciding to lean back against the pit wall as the two conversed.

"I came to inform you of Gallheia's verdict."

"Really? So what is it?" questioned Valera with genuine curiosity.

"I managed to convince and remind her of the tradition. She reluctantly agreed, and therefore the Mortal Man will have a chance to prove himself before everyone in the arena at first dawn."

"A trial by combat?" inquired Valera.

"Yes," responded Aries, oblivious or uncaring to Sygil's presence.

Sygil, however, listened with piqued interest.

"The Trial will occur in the Arena, where Gallheia will have selected her champion to represent the clan. I have instructed the rest of the Order to prepare both the Arena and the rest of the masses for the trial."

"And what of the mortal?" questioned Valera.

Aries shot an eyebrow up. "What about him?"

"To be a fair fight, shouldn't he be granted a chance to at least rest temporarily? To have the fight so soon…." She trailed off.

Aries waved a hand in dismissal. "It is his own fault if he is too weak to fight. Besides, Gallheia made the decision, not me."

Valera muttered in distain. "Gallheia is always making the decisions now. She has too much control and you know it too."

"Valera," Aries eyes narrowed as she reprimanded her.

"You know it's the truth," protested Valera.

"Whether it is or not, we have discussed this before. There is nothing to be done about it. Not now." She whispered the last part to herself. Sygil, however, picked up on it.

_Seems to be some issues in the tribe then? Curious._

Aries picked up, however. "Regardless, we are honour-bound to sanction the Trial. Have him out of the pit half an hour after sunrise. Gallheia will be conducting an announcement, and all the clan must be present. We will oversee the Trial, but we mustn't intervene."

"Of course. As per the tradition. Still, it bothers me."

Aries closed her eyes, before speaking.

"I know. It… hurts me too, knowing about it. But we can't dwell on it anymore. There is nothing to be done about it."

Valera made to protest further, but Aries coldly shut her down. "And that is the last I want to hear of it."

Valera's mouth shut before she tightened her lips in defeat. "Yes. Aries."

Sygil stared on with interest at the duo, before speaking up.

"You know, I'm right here. You know, instead of speaking _about_ me when I am right here, you could talk _to_ me," he suggested somewhat sarcastically.

Aries shot him a scathing look, acknowledging him for the first time since arriving. "Silence your tongue, Mortal Man."

Sygil just rolled his eyes. "It's Sygil." He stressed his name. "I already gave it to you. Hell, you _asked_ me for it. Why not use it to refer to me?"

Aries turned to face Valera again, shooting him a sideways glance as she spoke up, moreso talking to Valera, but he could feel it aimed at him none-the-less.

"Despite Gallheia's actions, I feel less comfortable about him, Valera. Keep an eye on him. You know how their kind work."

Valera curtsied a bow, this time with actual respect. "Of course Aries. I will bring him to the pit in an hour."

Aries nodded in affirmation before turning on her heel and marching away, ignoring Sygil.

"You should learn to watch your tongue, mortal. Your lack of respect will cause you much suffering," snapped Valera coldly.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't exactly help when my hosts aren't being respectful in the first place."

Valera huffed before facing away and resuming her post.

"You know, Valera, I have a question." Valera grunted in annoyance. Sygil continued regardless.

"On one hand I'm, it would seem, disgusting and shouldn't be alive. On the other, I deserve a fair trial? What gives?"

Valera finally relented.

"Make no mistake, mortal. I would much rather see you burn for your sins, but as a prisoner of ours, our tradition calls for a Trial by Combat to prove a prisoner's strength and whether or not they are truly strong enough to be fit for freedom. Particularly considering the circumstances of your capture. It is our tradition, and it is only by that tradition that you have any chance at all."

"And what sins would that be? You don't even know me?"

"No. But I know your kind well enough."

Sygil waited for Valera to elaborate, but she didn't. He tried to pry further, but she outright ignored him.

Realising he was going to get nowhere, and that he would be moved out in an hour, he decided to kill time by thinking of what this Trial by Combat might exactly entail. It would likely involve combat of some form, judging by the title, but then again he might be wrong. Some cultures tended to get certain words wrong, giving them a different meaning than their actual.

Deciding that there was nothing to be done for now, he sat in silence and waited for the time to arrive when he would be brought to the Trial.

* * *

He sat alone in his thoughts for what seemed to be nearly an hour, when suddenly the sound of distant voices and chatter woke him from said thoughts. Sitting upright, he listened on with intrigue.

_Sounds like the mobs are gathering for the trial then._

As he sat there, waiting, he could hear some approaching footsteps. Looking up with slight interest, one the tribespeople could be seen conversing with Valera briefly before being dismissed. Not a moment later Valera turned to Sygil, before unlocking the door.

"It's time for your Trial mortal. Don't keep her majesty waiting." She beckoned for him to step out, which he obliged to.

His hands were still tied behind his back, much to his chagrin. However, he didn't voice his complaints.

_It's not like mere rope can keep me bound._

Valera grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to the arena.

* * *

After several minutes of walking, aided by the faintest of light provided by the rising sun in the distance, they arrived at the arena.

The arena was a moderately sized dirt pit several centimetres deep and approximately 20 by 20 metres in size. Directly at the end of the pit sat a small elevated stone stage with several stone seats and thrones, upon which sat Gallheia and Aries, accompanied by the same armoured women from atop the temple.

To the sides of the pit were a large gathering of the tribal women, all of which were chattering and cheering.

Valera led him to the centre of the arena, where the chatter became louder and more frantic.

As the duo approached the centre, Gallheia stood up and raised her hand, as if to silence everyone. The chatter died down.

After waiting for several seconds, seemingly building the anticipation from the crowd, Gallheia finally spoke.

"Clanswomen! Before us, is a being that has been captured from inside our very own sacred lands. A trespasser!"

Gallheia paused, looking over everyone in the crowd.

"This being, is none other… than a mortal Man. One of the very beings that our great teachings, provided so generously by the Messengers of God for the prosperity of our clan, has warned us about!"

Small murmurs began anew in the crowd, however Gallheia silenced them with a wave of her hand.

"I understand your concerns. The presence of the enemy within our very walls is disturbing. But, it is also an opportunity for us! To replenish our numbers, and save us having to risk braving their very territory." The crowd seemed to absorb Gallheia's speech like a sponge, but Sygil was much more discerning with the information she was unwittingly providing Sygil.

_So they likely raid other communities? Then they do know of other communities._

"While the thing standing before you in the arena next to one of the glorious Messengers of God is deserving of being drained of its lifeforce so as to help better our clan, it is through the teachings of God, presented by his Messengers, that we are honour-bound to grant it one chance to prove it is deserving of freedom!"

Gallheia continued as some disgruntled opinions started to erupt from the crowd.

"Now, my friends, my devout, loyal friends! Fear not, for the way to earn its freedom, is through demonstrating its strength, if it has any. A Trial by Combat has been arranged for when the first rays on God's light strikes the arena. The Trial will be overseen by the esteemed Messengers of God themselves. This Trial is sanctioned by them, both to honour our tradition as warriors, and to prove that your training has borne fruit; that you are ready to fight!"

By now the disgruntled chatter was starting to morph into cheers.

"Which is why, I have selected amongst your ranks, my Champions to represent and fight this thing as my representative. If it can prove its strength by surviving and defeating all of my selected warriors, then it is free leave." By now, Gallheia was staring directly at Sygil.

Aries stood up to address the crowd and Sygil now.

"As this fight has been sanctioned by my Order, the rules will be stipulated now for the combatants. This fight is to test and prove the physical strength, training and overall warrior prowess of the combatants. Therefore, the use of magic, enchantments and other performance enhancing substitutes is strictly prohibited and considered dishonourable. The combatants are free to use any weapons that are found only in the arena to win. While this is not strictly a fight to the death, and restraint is encouraged, only the strongest may triumph. Therefore, death is an accepted possibility. Neither myself, nor the Order, shall interefere, regardless of the outcome. Fight responsibly, and honourably."

Aries sat back down, and Gallheia nodded slowly in agreement.

"Indeed. Well spoken." She turned back to face the duo in the arena.

"If no-one has anything to say-" "-I do, actually," interjected Sygil.

If looks could kill, the look on everyone's face would have slain him over a thousand times for interrupting Gallheia. Even Gallheia was not impressed, but he continued on.

"All I am interested in is simply my location and where I can find the nearest town or city. We need not devolve into such brutal violence." He maintained a calm and professional visage.

However, he went ignored as Gallheia continued.

"Celestine. Retrieve your weapon and enter the arena with the mortal man. Valera, you may unbind it." As Celestine, one of the women in the crowd he assumed, went to retrieve her gear, Valera untied his hands, allowing him to freely move his arms.

He gave a few experimental stretches and shoulder rolls to warm up his muscles, not that he needed to. Old habits die hard though.

Meanwhile, Valera walked away to where Aries sat, leaving him alone in the arena waiting.

He didn't have to wait long, seconds at most actually, as a woman entered the arena, clad in her ridiculous battle armour as every other tribesperson wore. In her left was a long, narrow sword with a hilt large enough for a two-handed grip. Her animal ears mixed into her brown hair, and her furry tail hung behind her.

A lecherous look was in her eyes as her eyes roamed his body, and he was beginning to doubt it was just sizing up the threat he might potentially pose.

He looked her up and down in a different manner. More coldly and analytically, trying to observe for any weaknesses he could exploit, and by jolly, were there many.

_This idiot has hardly any armour! _The woman, Celestine he assumed, had no shoes or footwear at all. She lacked any armour for her legs to enhance the damage behind any attacks she used, nor to protect her from his. Her armoured panties didn't even cover anything vital in her lower torso or legs. Her entire abdomen, save the majority of her breasts, were completely exposed to any of his attacks. Her arms and shoulders had no protective armour whatsoever, and her neck and head lacked any protection save for a basic metal tiara that held her hair back. Not only was she physically vulnerable, but she looked like a fool for going into a fight the way she was dressed.

If he didn't know any better, he would have almost assumed she was roleplaying for some strange, kinky sex act. The only saving grace of hers was her stance, and the fact her sword was long enough to potentially keep him at bay, and likely light enough to swing around. _If_ she even knew how to fight. And judging by her careless appearance, he had his doubts. Still, he would be cautious. He just needed to probe her defences and see how she attacked, and then systematically take her apart.

_These fools want to preach strength? Then I'll give them a demonstration on how I tear their strength apart._

Celestine had a cocky look, as if she was expecting this fight be easy.

_Another weakness to exploit_.

The sun's rays finally struck the edge of the arena, and Gallheia's voice ran out. "Let the fight begin, and may the strongest fighter win!"

Sygil looked at Gallheia in some confusion.

"Don't I get a weapon to fight with? I thought this was an honourable fight? Where's the honour if one opponent is placed at a disadvantage?" He wasn't really at a disadvantage, but he wanted to see Gallheia's reaction.

Surprisingly, Gallheia actually responded this time, permitting a small smirk to form on her face.

"This is about who is the strongest. If you aren't strong enough to win, then that is your own fault, Human."

It was the first time she actually referred to him as something other than Mortal Man, or It. Still, he couldn't help but mutter his displeasure at her bias.

"Bitch." The crowd seemed to hear, and began to voice their displeasure and hurtling insult after another. He tuned them out and focused on his opponent who was in a two-handed guard position.

While he could easily materialise a weapon if he wanted to, considering Valera's strength, he didn't want to attract unnecessary attention.

_Just win the stupid fight and get the information I need._

He didn't bother adopting a stance, particularly as he had no weapon as of yet. However, he already had a target; her sword. He would simply take it from her, but first, he needed to bait an attack out from her to probe. No need to risk getting his suit cut up. Speaking of which, the stupid fool before him just had to make a comment regarding his suit.

"What ridiculous clothing is that you're wearing? A noble or a merchant, perhaps? Don't worry, I'll treat you with royalty and ravish your body _anyway you want_." Her sultry look didn't go unnoticed, and by now it was no secret that they all just wanted to simply fuck him to produce more idiotic 'warriors'.

"At least I have clothing to begin with," he shot back. It seemed to be enough to get her to lash out.

To her credit, she actually did use appropriate finesse and technique as she swung down overhead, adopting an appropriate stance to grant her greater strength and momentum. He sidestepped her strike with ease, however, years of experience and his demonic attributes making her strike seem slower than it actually was.

She compensated with a horizontal sweep to slash his chest open, but he stepped back calmly to avoid being sliced open.

Again, she propelled herself forward to attack him with an overhead diagonal sweep, using the momentum from her previous strikes to assist her. Again, however, he dodged her attack with a sidestep.

The actions barely lasted over a second, a testament to her skill and reactions, likely a product of years of training. However, Sygil noted, she was eager to prove her mettle by striking him down.

She kept slashing at him, attempting to hit him, but he kept dodging and avoiding her attacks, trying to predict her strikes and patterns, if she had any.

_Her strikes are powerful, and not as wasteful for energy as I hoped. She also has good footwork and balance._ He was somewhat surprised at her coordination. Additionally, she avoided using the same techniques repeatedly. _Guess it shows you can't judge a book by its cover._

Celestine, realising she was having little luck with her strikes, decided to change her style altogether for a style that was more deceptive and did not openly, or as obviously, telegraph her attacks to Sygil.

_She's adapting her style to try and hit me then? Interesting._

While he would have loved to have dodged more of her attacks to find a weakness, after several jabs she came in with an overhead strike that was a little _too_ telegraphed, with her arms arched back fully.

Ultimately, Sygil could not resist the opportunity before him and decided to attack.

Celestine's body was left exposed, and he capitalised on the opportunity, rushing forward with a hard punch to her stomach with his left hand, while his right hand went into the air to intercept her hands from her sword strike. The result was instantaneous.

As she brought her strike in, his right hand intercepted and wrapped her right wrist, whilst the haymaker he delivered keeled her over with an audible gasp.

Now that he was holding her sword at bay, he turned his body so his back was directly pressed in her chest, allowing him to extend her right arm into an armbar and, with his strength, potentially hyperextend said arm.

She seemed to acknowledge what he was attempting, and tried to switch her sword to her left hand, but he was prepared, bringing his left hand under her left arm to grab her sword hilt and wrest control from it.

His strength overpowered hers, though for a mortal it was still impressive. However, he wasn't finished with her yet.

As he finished wresting control of the sword with his left hand and held her right at bay, he brought the heel of his left foot sharply into her left foot in an attempt to crush her toes that she foolishly had exposed with her lack of decent armour.

She grunted in pain, but struggled to hold on. Her grip on the sword was weakened, however, and to finish, he smashed the back of his head into the bridge of her nose, getting a muffled cry of pain from her. That was enough to finally force her to let go, and he rapidly broke free and spun away from her, using the carried momentum of his spin to knock her off of her feet with a sweep from his leg.

She crashed onto the ground, and before she could even fully land on her back, her very sword was pointed at her throat by Sygil.

"Yield. You've lost," ordered Sygil. Celestine glared at him. However, his victory was short-lived as Gallheia beckoned with her hands and called out several more names.

"Broder, Ilhain, and Jaisa. Enter the arena." The three warriors obliged, and entered the arena, circling Sygil with their weapons brandished.

_I thought there was meant to be one opponent?_ Sygil narrowed his eyes at Gallheia who seemed to be smirking slightly more.

* * *

Aries was not the only one having doubts as she leaned over to Gallheia and whispered forcefully.

"He won against his opponent. What are you doing? Are you trying to test my patience Gallheia!"

"Of course not. This fight is sanctioned as you decreed," Gallheia calmly retorted.

"It's supposed to be an honourable fight between two combatants. You stated so when you decided your champion!" Hissed Aries.

"And it is an honourable fight between its opponents," replied Gallheia coyly.

* * *

Sygil stared at his new opponents. They were dressed, for the most part, similarly to the rest of their clan, though he did spot two actually wearing leather greaves and boots alongside matching vambraces.

_Actual protection. Shocking_.

One of the women was twirling a two-headed battleaxe, whilst another had a pike. The third had a bastard-sword and small oval shield, held in a defensive stance.

He kept his sword trained on Celestine as the other three circled him, however, it was Celestine who made the first move, swatting his sword and leaping up underneath to tackle him.

The sheer force and speed of the attack caught him off balance and he fell to the ground with Celestine straddled on top of him.

He kept his grip on his sword, however, as Celestine tried to wrestle it from him. The other three kept their distance as Celestine savagely tried to reclaim her sword, her hair a tangled mess of dirt and blood from her still leaking and disfigured nose.

Sygil, however, didn't care, and placing his free hand on her face to keep her at bay, he swung his sword with considerable strength into her head.

He tried to be conscious of using the sharp edge, opting for the flat of the blade instead. The force was enough to topple her off of him immediately, and he wasted no time reversing their positions.

By now, he was the one straddling her, and he wasted no time bringing the pommel of the sword into her face with a sickening crack.

The blow rendered her limp as consciousness left her, blood and swollen, bruised tissue forming on her face as he stood up.

The other three wasted no in charging forth as a group, and the crowd went silent at the spectacle before them.

Sygil parried the sword strike from one of the warriors. While his blade was locked, the pike-woman thrust at him. He responded by sidestepping the thrust, grabbing the pike pole with his free hand to immobilise the weapon, resulting in tense tug of war with the pike remaining stationary due to his strength.

The axe-wielder, seeing an opportunity came swinging overhead with a warcry.

Seeing the telegraphed swing from miles away, he twisted his body to tug the pike in his direction so he could use it to intercept the axe strike.

A resounding clang of weapons clashing could be heard.

The sword-wielder wasted no time breaking the lock of blades to spin and perform a horizontal slash at his exposed stomach, but he brought the sword in time to deflect the strike.

The axe-wielder, however, raised her axe to do another overhead swing. Realising his opponents were too close for his comfort, before the axe-wielder could strike, he let go of the pike and swung his sword into the exposed midriff of the axe-wielder, with the flat of his sword smacking loudly across her stomach.

She let out an audible oof as she collapsed to her knees, doubled over in pain.

He wasted no time in turning to deflect a sword strike from the other woman, locking his longer sword under hers. She tried to react with a shield-bash, however, before she could hit him, he twisted his sword to disarm her of hers, sending it flying as he closed the gap and swung at her exposed neck, the flat of the blade connecting harshly and painfully. The strike sent her collapsing to the ground, shooting pain into her neck.

The pike-woman thrust at him while his back was exposed, but he grabbed the pike before pulling it in close in what resembled an arm-bar, extending her arms and body.

Before she could react, he shoved the pike back into her stomach, the blunt end striking her in her exposed stomach.

She coughed loudly as she doubled over, but he wasn't finished.

As her grip on the pike slackened, he closed the distance, grabbing her wrist and pulling her in close before his and her body so he held her from behind with his sword pressed tightly against her throat.

The whole sequence lasted no more than ten seconds, and the crowd was left floored at the proficiency and skill he displayed in taking down each of the combatants.

"Consider this a lesson on why you should wear actual armour to protect you. I'm in a position to slit the missies throat here, I could have cut open the other's guts since she has no body armour to speak of, and I could have decapitated the other one."

Aries looked on with interest, impressed by the skill he displayed, even if he was a mortal man.

He continued however, looking at Gallheia specifically.

**\- Recommended Song: Frank's Choice - The Punisher Soundtrack - **

"I bested your combatants. And I kept them alive as a show of good faith." He shoved his 'hostage' away to the ground. "How about you return the favour by letting me go and telling me where I can find the nearest city or town?"

It was silent, and everyone waited for Gallheia's response, even the combatants that were nursing their wounds. And then, she finally spoke, a cruel smirk across her face.

"My warriors are more than capable of fighting you; if this were a real fight, you would be dead now."

Sygil deadpanned, before he hissed out in disbelief. Gallheia continued, however.

"Besides, the fight is far from over. You still have to face all of my warriors," she smirked.

Sygil narrowed his eyes, while Aries realised what Gallheia was doing. She was helpless, however, as Gallheia continued.

"The rules of the fight are clear. I never stated how many warriors you have to fight. If it takes this entire clan to fight you, then so be it, but you are not leaving."

_You cheating, lying, bitch….. _It would be hypocritical for him to claim he had never, in all of his years, taken advantage of a contract or bent it to his will, but the fact it was this condescending bitch of all people to do it against him, made him furious.

"I see then," he said calmly, maintain his composure externally as he tightened his grip on the sword. The combatants, save for Celestine who was out cold, were now standing up with their weapons raised, ready to go again.

Gallheia continued to smirk at him, making him further furious.

"You see, I was willing to play your little pathetic game to get what I wanted, but you want to cheat and bend the rules to suit you. You want to lie to me."

He stared up at Gallheia coldly, "I want no more games. Answer my questions right now, or I will burn your fucking world."

"I don't have to do anything, _Human_," she sneered at him.

"Then if you won't play by your own rules, I don't have to either."

There was silence as the combatants stared at Sygil; as the crowd stared at Sygil…. as Gallheia and Aries stared at Sygil. And then, he moved.

He moved at such speed, it was almost impossible to track with the naked eye.

However, he moved with a purpose, a target in mind, bladed extended forward.

Before Ilhain could react or parry with her pike, he was upon her, and this time, there was no mercy.

Sygil's blade plunged deep into her throat, cutting off her gurgled screams. Broder was the first to react, and swung her battle axe with an overhead strike to cleave Sygil in two. Sygil, however, responded by grabbing Ilhain's shoulder and twisting her body to block the strike, cutting more of her throat open in the process.

Broder's axe collided into Ilhain's body, cutting deep into her sternum. Before she could pull it out, Sygil spun around with his sword, decapitating Ilhain's head, sending it flying into the air as if it grew legs to jump up with.

Broder didn't have time to deal with Sygil's attack, his carried momentum bringing him to bear on her axe-wielding arms with a heavy downward strike.

Broder screamed in pain as Sygil cut both her arms off above the wrist, and she stumbled back.

Sygil, however, wasn't finished, and without changing position, rammed his sword in an upwards motion following the strike into her exposed belly.

The blade entered at her exposed belly-button and protruded from the side of her neck with such violent force she either died or lost consciousness from the shock alone.

The squelching sound of steel piercing flesh and viscera could be heard by everyone.

Jaisa woke herself from her stupor and shock as she realised Sygil had killed two of her allies in mere seconds. Realising the fight was still on, she charged at Sygil, shield at her side and sword held close to stab him in his exposed back.

Sygil was faster, however. With quick reactions and strength, he tore the sword out of Broder with a loud tearing sound as viscera, bone and cartilage were torn through, spraying blood everywhere. The sword was free, and as Jaisa closed the gap quickly with intent to skewer him, he swung high and hard overhead while twisting his body to intercept her.

Jaisa barely had time to bring her shield up to stop the attack, which was much stronger than she anticipated. The shield formed a large crack under the strike, rendering it borderline useless. However, Jaisa wasn't in the clear yet. As quickly as he had struck her shield, he pulled the sword off and redirected a horizontal swing to bisect her, which she just barely parried.

A clash of steel could be heard as their blades locked for a second, but Sygil quickly overpowered her, twisting his sword underneath hers and attempting to disarm her.

While he failed in flicking her sword away, he did manage to pull her sword hand away, leaving her completely exposed. Something that he capitalised on completely without hesitation.

He barely exposed her when he spun around for another horizontal slash to bisect her.

To Jaisa's credit, she was smart enough to jump backwards out of the way to avoid getting cut, except the sword was too long and Sygil was too close.

While he failed in completely bisecting her, the sword did slice cleanly across her stomach, leaving a deep, thin red line in its wake, alongside the all-too-familiar sound of flesh being sliced.

Sygil held his sword out to the side like a composer, watching as Jaisa stood there for a second, a faint gurgle being heard as her wound started to become wider and wider with blood, until suddenly the bloody internal entrails and viscera from inside her started to leak out. The first to fall out was her intestines, slopping onto the ground, followed by Jaisa collapsing onto her side unceremoniously, blood pooling underneath her.

Everyone stood silent and speechless, shocked at the speed, efficiency and brutality which Sygil used to dispatch his opponents.

"_This_ is why you wear _proper_ armour into a battle. So it can _prevent_ you getting _killed_ like _this_," he gestured to the bloodsoaked corpses lying on the ground, lecturing Gallheia and the crowd slowly as if they were ignorant children.

Gallheia looked at him with wide-eyed shock, mouth slightly agape, before she promptly closed it and her features morphed into a snarl.

Her voice rang out to the other warriors in the crowd, calling forth their names to combat him. He paid it no heed however, as he was prepared to slaughter anyone else that would dare cross his path.

Several of the women in the crowd started brandishing weapons they had on their person as they began to enter the arena, however, he didn't grant them a chance.

They were physically between him and Gallheia, and if they were foolish enough to get in his way, then their life was forfeit.

A woman charged him with a large knife, and he wasted no time in flicking his sword across to relieve her of her knife-hand, sending blood flying as she screamed.

He silenced her screams with a quick slash across her chest, sending her flying backwards.

Another came rushing at him, but dodged under her sword thrust, bringing his own under into her torso, impaling her to the hilt.

Just as quickly as he stabbed her, he pulled the sword out with a loud squelch, before turning to parry a third warriors overhead axe strike, spinning around underneath to deliver a nasty swing with tremendous strength; enough to bisect the poor warrior in half.

However, with all of the swords repeated use and considerable strength he wielded, it was only inevitable the sword would begin to give in.

It was not a broadsword, nor was it heavy enough in its design to afford slicing through bone. And Sygil could feel it as the blade started to lose its sharpened edge, becoming duller and duller.

It could still serve a purpose, but with the swarm of enemies before him, it was time to retire the blade and bring out his own.

Two of the women tried to flank him on both sides, whilst another rushed him with a sword.

He brought the blade up to parry another sword strike from a different assailant, twisting the blade to lock the two swords at the hilt.

He released one of his hands from the sword to grab his opponents sword hilt, before delivering a solid kick to her gut, knocking her back and granting him control of two swords now; one in each hand.

As the two warriors flanking him rushed to him, he thrust both swords to the opposite side, his arms crossing as a result.

The swords impaled both targets in the abdomen, their lack of armour leaving them to the mercy of cold, hard steel.

As the woman before him that he had kicked away regained her footing, he charged forwards, slashing the two swords out from them, spraying blood everywhere as he closed the gap.

By the time he reached her, his swords had already formed an X with the force he used, an X which was now around her throat, though not for very much longer.

He finished his outward slash of the two blades, cutting open her throat and leaving her to tumble backwards, clutching the bleeding wound as she gurgled out in pain.

He ignored her, however, focusing on a new target in his way.

He didn't wait the next person in his way to attack, opting for being offensive instead. And so he charged the next warrior before him, ramming both blades into her chest, avoiding what little armour she did wear.

He didn't even have to be precise in his aim, as the large exposed surfaces of flesh were an open target for him to inflict grievous injuries upon.

* * *

Gallheia seemed to realise that the human before her was stronger than she thought, judging by the way he was tearing through her warriors.

Internally, she was starting to panic, becoming furious at what would appear to be an inevitable loss of the human before her.

"No…." she snarled gutturally. Aries cast her a questioning look, but otherwise focused on the fight occurring in the arena.

Gallheia, however, was not willing to lose her warriors based on some mere tradition that Aries wanted her to uphold.

She reached into her cloak, pulling forth the ring that the human before her had been relieved of.

When she was given the ring earlier, she had examined it and was shocked to find out it was a powerful, high tier item. What purpose it held, she didn't know, but for the human to have it in his possession, it likely knew it was worth a lot. Either it was something valuable to it due to its power, or could hold some value if sold off at a _human_ settlement. She wanted to scoff at the thought of such an item being bartered for mere coins.

_Disgusting human pigs; only they would do something so selfish and stupid._ No, such a treasure should be kept at the temple and be used with thought and care, and only by certain individuals.

Still, perhaps it would be enough to call off the human seeing as it was easily decimating her warriors, and Aries, the damned bitch, wasn't doing anything to stop the human!

"Aries! Stop that thing!"

Aries shot her eyes over to Gallheia. "I'm sorry, your majesty, but the rules you stipulated that we, my Order and I, specifically adhere to were that we were _not_ to interfere, regardless of the outcome."

Gallheia was fuming.

"Aries! This is a direct order!"

"It is a sanctioned fight. You called everyone forth as a combatant to the mortal man, and he is proving to be more than a match. Unless he were to engage non-combatants or you yourself, we cannot interfere."

Gallheia didn't ignore the slightly satisfied expression on Aries face when she said that, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Aries was a stickler for her tradition and her Order.

Though, perhaps not all was lost.

She tried to ignore the sounds of flesh being sliced, steel clashing, and bodies falling.

Reaching into her robes, she could feel the ring she wanted, it was in her hand!

Pulling it out, she was greeted with a simple, yet elegant gold ring with an inscription engraved on its side in a language she wasn't familiar with.

She only stared at the ring temporarily, before steeling herself, slipping the ring on her left index finger.

If Aries and her Order wouldn't stop this thing from killing her people, then she would.

Perhaps it was foolish of her to attempt to use a magical item when she had no idea what it would entail, but she was the decreed leader of her clan! It was bound to work due to her royal heritage!

Standing up, she called out in an authoritative voice to the human still slaughtering her people.

"HUMAN! That is enough!"

* * *

Sygil was just about to decapitate an armless warrior currently on her knees before him with a small battleaxe he had relieved from another slain animal-warrior, when Gallheia's voice rang out.

He stopped midswing, and retorted back.

"Only if you give me what I want. Seeing that you are a manipulative liar, however…."

He finished his swing, relieving the warrior of her head, before standing upright to face Gallheia.

Gallheia had to resist flinching at the execution before she continued.

"Stand down, my people. There is no point in contending with this brutish ape."

Sygil looked nonplussed at the insult.

Gallheia stood up to look down upon Sygil.

"As reluctant as I am to admit this, you have bested many of my warriors, so I will grant you an opportunity – " Sygil cut her off, however.

"Unless you will tell me where I can find the nearest _civilised_ city or town, then my answer is no."

Gallheia grit her teeth in anger at his insolence, but he didn't care.

Gallheia did, however, as she levelled her ring hand at him with a snarl.

"Then by all means, suffer my wrath, Human."

She could feel the power in the ring welling as summoned its abilities. She was the leader of this clan, not just because of her royal blood, but because of her affinity with Tier magic. And she'd be damned if she was going to let this insolent Human test her.

She felt the power burst, even though there was no visible signs of the release of the energy. She had it aimed at Sygil, and was certain the ring would do something. Anything!

Except it didn't.

Sygil looked at her with contempt, uncaring of her seemingly fruitless theatrics.

"Well," he began, hefting the small axe in his right hand to test the weight.

"Now that you are done, it's my turn." Before anyone could react, he pulled the axe behind his shoulder for heavy through, putting much of his strength, demonic included, into it. And then he threw it.

The axe soared in the air towards her head with perfect aim and incredible speed. She had no hope of dodging or deflecting it.

Except, the axe bounced off of something with a loud clang; a sign of steel hitting steel.

_What the hell!_

Sygil was surprised at the speed with which Aries moved and drew her sword to deflect the axe. Not only did she save Gallheia, but she stood as if she didn't register the impact on her sword.

It was as if he threw an object at a wall and it bounced off with no effect. And considering the strength he put into the through, for Aries to deflect it with such ease was alarming. Only a higher entity being such as an Angel could deflect it. Was she….?

Sygil didn't have time to ponder as Aries stood erect and began to descend down the steps whilst addressing him.

"While your strength is impressive mortal man, you have broken the rules of the Trial."

Gallheia regained her senses as she realised how close she had brushed with death. Aries continued coldly.

"It is dishonourable to attack a ruler in such a cowardly manner," and Gallheia allowed herself to smirk. Aries was going to punish this foolish Human now. Except….

The sound of a sword being drawn caught Gallheia's attention. Even more-so as she felt the blade pressed against her throat. And everyone's attention was drawn once the voice spoke.

"I couldn't agree more. So get away from the Supreme Being, you filthy demi-humans!" A cold, sharp voice rang out in the arena as everyone turned to where Gallheia was seated, petrified with fear.

Sygil couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Standing to the left of Gallheia with a sword drawn against her throat, was none other than –

_Maxmillian?!_

Aries, alongside her order and everyone else turned to face the intruder with weapons drawn, but he simply pressed the blade tighter against Gallheia's throat.

"Ah ah ah!" Tutted the uniformed NPC given life.

"Lower your weapons and back away from Lord Sygil, or I relieve this fool of her ugly demi-human head," sneered Maxmillian.

Meanwhile, Gallheia was internally freaking out. _Where in the hell did this intruder come from!_

While everyone was stunned, Sygil strode forth up the stairs, but Aries moved to block him.

"Don't take a step closer!" She warned. Maxillian tightened the pressure on his sword, drawing some blood from Gallheia's throat. Gallheia took the hint, and called out to Aries and everyone else.

"Lower your weapons and let it go, Aries!"

Aries was reluctant to, and felt conflicted.

_Fucking coward!_ Both Sygil and Aries, unknowingly, had the exact same thought concerning Gallheia.

Sygil, however, remained wary of Aries, and even the rest of her Order. He hadn't seen them fight, but the few displays of strength he was privy to were concerning. He didn't want to risk getting in over his head potentially, so he stopped where he was and began to speak to Gallheia whilst watching Aries cautiously, ready to summon his hounds, spiked chain and sabre in the event he needed to.

"You know what I want Gallheia, so I am not going to bother asking," he contemptuously spoke to her.

He was confused about Maxmillian being here, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not right now, anyways.

Gallheia managed to stutter out a response with the sword pressed tightly against her airway.

"There's a human settlement not too far from here!" Her voice sounded raspy and hoarse with the blade pressed against her throat, but he didn't care. Neither did Maxmillian.

"Where," asked Sygil sharply.

"About a day's travel to the east of the forest, near the edge in some plains. You can't miss it!"

Sygil allowed a predatory smile to form on his face. "See. That wasn't so hard, now. Was it."

Gallheia, alongside Aries and everyone else save for Maxmillian, just glared daggers at him. Gallheia for being humiliated, Aries for the lack of honour, and everyone else for the seeming injustice wrought upon their 'great leader'.

"And the name of this settlement?" He prompted.

"I don't know, Human!" Hissed Gallheia. That, was apparently the wrong thing to say, however, as Maxmillian pressed his sword much more firmly, beginning to cut deeper into the flesh.

Sygil, however, waved a wand.

"I need her alive, Maxmillian. For now." Mamxillian released the pressure, whilst Aries somehow narrowed her eyes even further.

Realising that she shouldn't test her own luck, Gallheia was more eager to provide a name this time.

"Merigold. That's the name of the settlement! Now, release me at – " "Are there any other settlements nearby?"

The blade against her throat prevented her from retorting back. So instead she answered honestly.

"I don't know!" She was beginning to sound desperate at this stage.

"Well do you at least have a map?" Sygil was beginning to sound not too impressed.

"No! Now, let me go!"

Sygil stared at her impassively. "And why should I believe you?"

"Because you need me to let you leave alive!"

"Actually," chuckled Sygil, "I don't. You need ME in order to stay alive. I am more than capable of fighting my way out of here. You, however, are currently experiencing death breathing over your shoulder, and you know it too."

Gallheai felt her eyes widen. However, it was the truth, and she knew it. So she relented.

"Everyone stand down. The mortal human is allowed to leave unhindered."

Sygil smiled darkly as he stepped up into Gallheia's face, his sabre pointed downwards.

He leaned and whispered to her.

"Don't ever try to follow me or, god forbid, try anything with me ever again. Because next time, I'll return and I'll finish the job, and I won't be as merciful. And if you're lying…." He let the threat sink in as he stepped back and began to walk away casually, everyone giving him a wide berth.

"Come, Maxmillian."

Maxmillian looked after Sygil, before facing Gallheia, a sneer plastered on his face.

Gallheia felt the blade slightly tighten around her throat as he reached over to her hand and plucked the ring off of her finger.

She was too absorbed with genuine fear to notice or feel the ring being ripped off of her finger, nor did notice Maxmillian pull the sword away and follow Sygil.

Aries moved to put herself between Gallheia and Maxmillian as he walked away.

As Sygil was walking away from the arena, he called out back to Gallheia without looking.

"Oh, by the way? Try and invest in some actual armour for your warriors next time. You might avoid this sort of situation happening again. Just a friendly tip."

And with that, he left with Maxmillian behind him.

* * *

They both trudged for what seemed like several hours in silence in the forest, heading in the direction to which a human settlement was so generously provided.

As they walked, Sygil's mind was a whirlwind of activity following the events that happened back earlier.

_What the fuck is going on? Why is Maxmillian here in the real world? And how did Aries deflect my attack aimed at Gallheia with such speed and strength? Why is the Ring of Creation from Yggdrasil here even? And where in the world am I that animal people exist? _

These were but a few examples of the thoughts that were going through his mind as he walked. Maxmillian, however, kept silent, dutifully following his creator without question. He had returned the ring immediately back to Sygil, who had taken it back without saying much, but he didn't care. To be of service to the Supreme Being was the greatest honour one could be bestowed.

By now, it was mid after-noon, and they could see the edge of the forest up ahead. It was now, that Maxmillian decided to speak to Sygil.

"Sir, I may ask, what are your plans once we reach the human settlement of Merigold?"

Sygil had become desensitised to Maxmillian's presence in the real world, so he didn't act surprised when Maxmillian spoke.

"First, find where in the world we are. From there, head to the nearest safehouse to begin planning."

"Planning for what, sir?" Maxmillian was genuinely curious.

Sygil merely pursed his lips as he neared closer to the edge of the forest.

"One step at a time Maxmillian."

Maxmillian nodded in affirmation as they finally came to the edge of the forest. Just outside of it, they could see a wide expanse of slightly hilly plains. Even larger, however, was the expanse of crops of produce, which Sygil was unable to identify at this stage nor distance, though it resembled wheat.

In the farther distance, they could both make out several large houses that were several stories high, their white painted wooden and stone walls standing out from afar.

Sygil gestured to the buildings.

"There, I assume, is our town of Merigold."

Maxmillian nodded, and they stepped out of the woods and began to approach the town.

As they got closer, Sygil began to notice some things that did not seem quite right.

For starters, the dirt path was quite narrow, and he couldn't see any connecting roads nearby. There were also no automobiles, telephone poles, light-poles, etc. Instead, there were a couple unlit lanterns held up by wooden posts, a stable and several horse-drawn carriages and wagons. In essence, there was nothing to indicate the town was a modern-day town like Sygil expected and hoped for.

What made it worse were the people when they entered the town finally. They were dressed like peasants from the 14th century, albeit, at least not as dirty. Simple plain clothing, such as work dresses or smocks and cheap clothes, appeared to be normal attire.

There was a patrol of armoured knights approaching them. Yes, knights. They had medieval armour, swords, pikes, shields, the whole nine yards.

"Why does this make me feel like we are in another world," muttered Sygil despondently as the knights ordered them to halt.

Maxmillian responded to his rhetorical question. "This place does not feel like Yggdrasil. I daresay, this might be a new world we are in."

_A new world to you maybe since you come from a bloody video game._

Sygil shook his head slowly as he mused quietly. _Still though… A new world, huh. It sure feels like it._

* * *

Aries was in the temple rooms, having overseen the burial of the slain warriors in the Trial earlier today, when she heard footsteps enter.

The temple rooms were off-limits except to her and the Order, and of course Gallheia. Speaking of whom.

"Aries. I want to have a quick word with you right now, now that the mess that human created has been cleaned up."

Aries turned to face Gallheia, and the sight before her made her stiffen her posture instinctively.

Gallheia was standing there, no change in her attire. However, in her left hand, she held a dark staff with barely visible intricate flame patterns throughout it.

The sight of the staff made her want to shudder. It was a vicious tool that Gallheia had somehow managed to get her hands on a long time ago.

Galleia stepped forth into the illuminated room while Aries stood still and visibly emotionless and stoic.

She stopped mere inches before Aries, looking her square in the eyes coldly.

"While I respect and will always do my best to adhere to the traditions you and your order have provided my clan, _I_ am the leader here. You do as I say. You seem to have forgotten your place."

She leaned in to Aries ear, speaking harshly.

"If you ever try to subvert my control like you did earlier today, EVER again, one of your Order members will have to 'return' back to heaven. Are we clear."

It was an order, not a question. Aries replied respectfully. "Of course your majesty. It was never my intention to overstep such boundaries. Forgive me." Aries dipped her head down as if to bow.

Gallheia allowed a smile to form on her face, pleased.

Aries didn't attempt to block the strike from the staff, all too well aware of what would happen if she resisted her punishment.

The strike from the staff wasn't even that hard, but it was the staff itself that was so painful; its reaction to an entity such as herself.

Aries lay there, her face contorted in pain as Gallheia began to walk out of the room. Just as she was about to exit the doorway, she stopped to look over her shoulder.

"Apology accepted."

And with that, Gallheia was gone. Aries forced herself to stand up, clutching her exposed shoulder where the staff had hit her.

A large ugly burn-like injury could be seen on her shoulder, showing between her fingers. Aries allowed a grimace to form on her face.

_This is all my fault._

* * *

**Author's Note: So the first chapter into the New World is done. I wonder how many people actually predicted the story to go this way? I hope it didn't feel too cliche at parts. Now, to address some story concerns from both this chapter and the last. **

* * *

**Q1. I thought Momonga and co were the focus of the story? Why you clickbait us with false tags?!**

**A1. Momonga and co WILL be playing a role in the story, but that won't be for many chapters in the future of the story. I have plans, you just have to be patient.**

* * *

**Q2. I thought this was going to provide fanservice with Lupusregina in the last chapter and I love/hate this!(The previous Chapter)**

**A2. I never said or promised anything. I was intentionally vague. Momonga could have entered anything into Lupusregina's console, or even nothing at all. Let your mind wander somewhere else instead of always the gutter. It _could be_ what you think it might be. But it could _also be_ something else entirely. You never know what the future holds... And yes, this does play a role also. I stated last chapter fanservice is not included for just the sake of existing. It must serve a purpose, and this all will... Have patience. But by all means, still feel free to discuss. Or hate. Or love. Your choice really, I won't fault you for it.  
**

* * *

**Q3. Is Asphaestus and all other mentioned aspects going to play a role later in the story? And what about Momonga hearing a scream of pain in the last chapter?**

**A3. If I mention it and it doesn't play an immediate role, then it is safe to assume it will (hopefully and theoretically) later on... ;) And yes, I will address this point later on.**

* * *

**Q4. Why is Sygil so OP?**

**A4. Ainz is OP. Sygil merely has a unique skillset that gives him distinct and unique set of advantages/disadvantages. Furthermore, he is older and more experienced than Momonga in certain matters. In terms of Yggdrasil abilities, Ainz/Momonga easily outclasses Sygil due to his higher levelling, knowledge and experience with Yggdrasil. Otherwise, Sygil just values efficiency and using all tools at his disposal. I hopefully covered that in the previous chapters. I want it to feel authentic. Sygil might appear strong, but he ins't like Ainz. The guy fucking massacred over 75,000 people with a single spell in an instant, and that was just to start the actual spell. Sygil may be strong, but he can't pull that sort of insane power out. He could kill 75,000 people over time using more conventional means, but then again, so could any dedicated psycopath. To summarise, different skillset, therefore different strengths and weaknesses. Maybe one day Sygil will become as powerful or even more than Momonga. But until then, no pulling things out of my ass. Hate that in stories. At least touch on why someone can do that... Exception is Saitama. Because, it's Saitama. I have spent waaay too much time talking (typing to be specific). Next question.**

* * *

** Q5. What is up with Maxmillian and the other NPCs for that matter?**

**A5. This will be addressed in later chapters, so no spoilers sorry. (I guess I give spoilers by saying I will address it?)**

* * *

To that end, while I try to be deliberate with my word-choice, if you feel something doesn't make sense, or seems to present a plot-hole of any sort, or is otherwise nonsensical, contrived or rushed, then PLEASE, DO MENTION IT. While I try my best, I am only human, and so it is possible I could make a mistake, in which case, don't be afraid to point it out. Whether plot continuity, plot-holes, grammar/spelling, or incorrect Overlord knowledge. Point it out. I won't bite, promise. It helps me as a writer to make the story more interesting for you as a reader.

If you suspect it, then it's probably worth pointing out to discuss. I'll either confirm it is indeed a mistake and try to fix it, or I'll let you know it's deliberate. Again, I won't provide spoilers if I can help.

If you have anymore questions or thoughts, feel free to ask and I will hopefully respond by the next update. With that, I have some important announcements to make.

1\. The Official Rating of this story: **T will be changed to M officially on the 1st February 2020.**

I feel the story is at the point where it is best suited to stick to the M rating now. I will leave it T until the above date so people have a chance to be aware.

2\. Going with the above announcement, I am considering whether or not to keep individual chapter ratings once the story becomes officially M. I have stated the content to expect in the Author's Note (First Chapter) and as of this chapter, the story is fair game to such content and I don't want to create unnecessary spoilers. Let me know your thoughts on this matter. Do the ratings provide any real use to you? Or if I changed it to M, you would assume that such content can be expected in any chapter from here on out? You can PM if you want, but understand I won't be able to respond immediately.

**This is the end of a long-ass Author's note, and to that end, I bid you all farewell. Take care.  
**


	10. Welcome to the New World (Part 2)

**Disclaimer at start of First Chapter but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content.**

* * *

**\- Story rating changes from T to M on 1st February 2020**

**\- The next chapter update will hopefully coincide with the rating change on the 1st February 2020**

* * *

**To Jason Yu: I apologise if that Mortal Man schtick was annoying to read through. ****You are correct in what I was intending to portray was a more condescending arrogance, and I believe I did succeed, though it would seem I may have overdone it. I have gone back and edited some of the lines so hopefully it's not as forceful this time. It still is present because I am trying to portray that arrogance, but I did reduce it's frequency and edit how it is mentioned so this time it's (hopefully) not as forceful and cringey. ****It does play a part in that chapter, but I'll try in future chapters to not be as repetitive if I can help it. ****Thanks for pointing that out.  
**

**To my other readers/reviewers: Glad you enjoy it so far, and it is interesting hearing your both your kind words and your thoughts on the matter. **

* * *

**Rating: M**

\- **Strong language**

* * *

**Welcome to the New World (Pt. 2)**

"Halt, stranger!"

The voice of one of the armoured knights rang out loud and clear as Sygil and Maxmillian came to a stop.

There were five knights, decked out in full suits of body armour, with full-face helmets that concealed their facial identity.

"State your name and business, stranger." The leader of the patrol stepped forth, wearing more pronounced and ornate armour. The voice sounded male.

Maxmillian tensed up, his face tightening to contort in anger at the knight's insolence.

"The Lord's business is none of your concern, you miserable – " Sygil quickly cut him off before he could say anything to further cause trouble, judging by the way the knights were beginning to bristle.

"My name is Sygil, and this is my compatriot Maxmillian. Please do ignore his anger, we had a recent encounter with some less-than-savoury people earlier and we are little on edge. We would just like a place to temporarily stay and rest for the day, and then we will be on our way."

His words seemed to do little to assuage the knights, especially the ones that were resting their hands on their sword hilts, ready for a quick draw and fight.

Sygil attempted his most passive diplomatic face, and spoke reassuringly. "Please. I can assure you. We have no ill intent and our claims are genuine." Meanwhile inside, however, Sygil was questioning more of the absurdity he was faced with.

_Why is there a patrol people that look ripped straight out of a medieval fantasy?_ By now, he had more questions than answers, and the way things were headed, they were not looking as promising as he wanted them to be.

The lead knight tilted his head to look both Sygil and Mamxillian up and down, sizing them for any threats they might pose, taking note of the blood and dirt on Sygils suit.

"Is that so? And who were these, 'less-than-savoury' people?" There was a slight edge to the knight's voice, and some of the other knights could be seen to fan out to form a semi-circle.

Neither Sygil nor Maxmillian liked what was going on.

"Some simple thugs, that's all," answered Sygil cautiously, careful not to let any undesirable emotions betray his features.

"And what happened to these thugs, pray tell? Because if you have led them here…." The warning was clear as a bell, and Sygil acted natural.

"No. They won't be following me or my compatriot. At least, if they know what is good for them." He didn't want to say that he had straight out murdered a bunch of anthropomorphic women dressed in ridiculous attire after they tried to capture and possibly rape him. He didn't know how the 'knights' would react to that. They would probably dismiss his claims or try to hinder him in some way, and he had things to do.

The lead knight seemed to scrutinise him and Maxmillian for a moment, before he finally snorted in amusement. "Hmmpf. Well, that's reassuring to hear, I suppose. I guess introductions are in order. The name's Cain, and I head the security around here. Any troubles, and my forces and I deal with it. While I would like to say welcome to Merigold, I don't know you or your... _compatriot_, well enough to say so. We don't exactly like the local populace walking around with weapons," Cain gestured to Maxmillian's military sabre he had sheathed, "so I'm going to need you to hand over your weapons on your person."

Cain seemed to notice the unimpressed look on Sygil's face and the way Maxmillian's eyes narrowed further.

Cain waved his hands placatingly. "Now, now. It's just a safety precaution. Here in Merigold, you're safe and sound. But, with people, especially strangers, walking around town with weapons on their person, it makes the people a little concerned."

Before Maxmillian could throw a retort, Sygil spoke up. "While I can understand and even respect the sentiment, I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Oh, really? And why is that?" Cain seemed to fake amusement.

"Maxmillian and I are party of the military, so for us to part with any means to defend ourselves would be a disgrace to our honour. As a fellow soldier, you understand, correct?"

Cain seemed less certain now, apparently willing to buy the bullshit Sygil was feeding him.

"Is that so. I was not aware of a military detail being present this far south," Cain sounded sceptical.

"We are part of an escort detail, and we ended up getting separated from the rest of the unit, unfortunately," lied Sygil. He didn't want to provide too much information. Things were already appearing to be quite strange and suspicious.

Cain seemed willing to voluntarily fill in the gaps of Sygil's lie.

"And your run-in in the forest with these 'thugs' you speak of? This caused your unit to be disbanded?"

Maxmillian seemed to understand what was going on, and spoke up to provide more information.

"That is correct. Right now we are trying to regroup and regain our bearings."

Sygil was impressed at Maxmillian's ingenuity in successfully contributing to the questioning.

"Really? I don't recall your uniform being standard issue, soldier? What unit are you part of."

Sygil couldn't believe his luck. This idiot was making things difficult. He just wanted to know where he was to get to the nearest safehouse of his. And he needed to do this with people preferably alive. Firstly, for the information itself, and secondly, because he didn't want to leave a bigger bloodbath trail for Asphaestus to potentially follow than he had already left in the forest.

Maxmillian responded to Cain's question coldly, hand resting on the hilt of his own sabre.

"That is a need-to-know basis."

There seemed to be a tense standoff between the two parties, until suddenly, a jovial, and portly voice rang out.

"Now, my, my! What seems to be the issue people! Surely we can all be civilised and, get along, with each other?"

Sygil shot his eyes to the right to see the newcomer.

A short, plump man in wealthy attire, reminiscent of a southern plantation owner during 18th century America, approached them.

He had a rather exaggerated moustache, clean-shaven sides, and a thinning head of hair.

_Is this the guy from Monopoly minus the tophat?_ Was Sygil's first thought, albeit sarcastically.

Cain was quick to respond.

"Of course, sir, but only if others are willing to get along with us." Sygil could tell it was a pointed accusation at Maxmillian and him.

"Now, now. From what I can tell, these two gentlemen are hungry, and tired. We'd make poor hosts to refuse them." The newcomer seemed cartoonishly happy, and that made Sygil sceptical.

Cain seemed annoyed at the newcomers statement. "With all due respect-" the newcomer cut him off.

"Come now, Cain, they have things they need to do, things they can't do with you holding them back."

Cain seemed to want to dispute, but held back his tongue. Sygil, however, caught the angry mutterings of Cain under his helmet.

"_Dumb bastard, this is what you pay me to do…."_

_Interesting_, thought Sygil. _He is under the employ of this stranger?_

"I can take over our guests from here, Cain. You and your posse may return to your duties."

"And their weapons?" Began Cain in dispute of the stranger.

"You heard them, they are soldiers. They may keep them on them." The newcomer dismissed him with a smile.

Sygil couldn't see Cain's face, but imagined it was one akin to annoyance.

Cain faced Maxmillian coldly. "Your weapon is to remain sheathed at all times. Am I understood." And with that, Cain and his knights left to patrol elsewhere.

The newcomer strode forth slowly.

"I do apologise for Cain. He can sometimes take his duties quite seriously, but he means well." The newcomer put forth his hand to Maxmillian to shake.

"The name's Beovhan. Beovhan Augustus. And welcome, to Merigold!"

Maxmillian deadpanned Beovhan unimpressed, so Sygil took over, shaking his hand. "Likewise. I hate to be a bother, but could you be so kind as to point us to where we can get a map, paper preferably."

Beovhan quirked an eyebrow. "But of course it would be paper, what else would it be? Human skin?! Please, we're not like those savages that surround us. We are civilised. There's a cartographer, just down the main street. There, you will find all your needs, ranging from inns and bars for the finest food and lodging we offer to travellers, as well as all your essential needs!"

Sygil was somewhat taken aback by Beovhan's eagerness to help him.

"I can also set you up with some more, 'exotic' places to relax, if you wish. Merigold is prosperous for a reason, after all! We cater to all your needs."

"Thank-you, Mr. Augustus," replied Sygil warmly.

"Oh please, Beovhan is just fine. Once you're done, please do remember to stop by my place at the end of Main Street. I would be delighted to take you on board!"

_This guy's a little too enthusiastic._

Sygil played it cool, though, and went along with the flow. "Of course, Mr. Beovhan, I thank you for you offer, but I am not interested in a long-term stay here. Maxmillian and I need to leave by the morning."

"Oh, I see. Well, be sure to drop by anyways once you're done. I run this place, so perhaps I can be of assistance. You can't miss my place, it's the biggest building of them all!"

With that, Beovhan walked away.

Maxmillian looked at Sygil who was watching the retreating form of Beovhan. Sygil finally spoke up.

"That man is way too cheery. Something's up with him." He pursed his lips, giving one final glance to the direction Beovhan disappeared to.

"Let's go. And try not to cause any more trouble than needed. Please."

Maxmillian nodded. "Of course sir."

* * *

As the duo walked through the town, Sygil's mind was a whir, trying to piece things together. Too many things seemed out of place. _Like a bloody fantasy._

As far as the map was concerned, why would he need a cartographer. _It's not like we are in the middle ages._

Ignoring Beovhan's terminology, he decided to just find this 'cartographer' for a map. He wasn't intending to buy one. He just needed a quick glance to orient himself.

"There's the cartography place ahead, sir," reported Maxmillian, pointing out the painfully obvious to Sygil. He refused to comment on it, however.

The cartography building was several buildings ahead to the left, connected to many other buildings, or rather large houses. The houses looked equivalent to some of the old inns he had seen back in Scotland and Britain back in the day, though the architecture was different in parts, incorporating designs from other civilisations. He didn't know specifically, however, as it wasn't his forte or area of expertise.

Sygil opened the wooden door, and was greeted with a small room with a counter directly in front. A mix of glass and wooden shelves rested on either side of the counter. Leaning on said counter from behind, was an older man, portly in shape with what appeared to be a white butcher's smock. Said man was completely bald, with no facial hair whatsoever. His facial features were worn from both age and the sun.

Upon closing the door, Sygil hoped the man would look up from leaning on the bench to acknowledge him. Alas, that was not the case.

Sygil and Mamxillian walked towards the counter, and Sygil coughed to get the man's attention. That didn't work, so Sygil coughed a little louder. When that didn't work, Sygil was about to call out when -.

"**Wake up, you great supine, protoplasmic, invertebrate jelly!** My illustrious lord has graced you with his presence, so **face him when spoken!**"

Maxmillian's loud and sharp outburst caught Sygil off-guard and garnered the man's attention, who nearly jumped out from his slouch in surprise.

"Ye-argh what the fuck!" The man shot out rapidly as he scrambled to stand up properly. He turned to take in Sygil and Maxmillian, glaring at both of them.

"Get the fuck out of my shop!"

Sygil put his hands to placate the angry man," I do apologise for my partner's rudeness. He seems to not know how to speak to people properly," Sygil shot a warning glance to Maxmillian, who was currently embattled in a contest of glares with the man he had offended.

The man crossed his arms, before huffing. "I don't care! You can both take a hike! Fucking people these days…" He muttered that last part under his breath.

"We're just here for a map; we're a little lost."

"Did you not hear a word I said!"

"I did, but I am here as a potential customer. I promise not to cause you any more trouble."

Internally Sygil was groaning. _Why the fuck can't something go easy for me for just ONCE in my fucking life!_

The man scrutinised them both, until he relented.

"Fine. I'll talk to you. But he!" he gestured to Maxmillian, "has to shut the fuck up or I'll shut him up myself, ye' hear!"

Maxmillian was about to say something, but Sygil beat him to it.

"Just do as he says Maxmillian. It's not worth it." Maxmillian wanted to protest, but he relented under Sygil's look. The Supreme Being's orders took precedence after all.

Sygil looked back at the man, a small smile on his face, hoping to put past grievances behind.

"Great, my name's Sygil – " "-I don't give a fuck about your name, are you gonna buy something or not? Cos if not, there's the fucking door." He gestured to the door with his thumb.

Sygil's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. _Stuck up prick._

"That depends if you have any quality maps."

The man narrowed his eyes, speaking gruffly.

"My maps are plenty good! Are you gonna buy or not."

"Well, what have you got?" Sygil tried his best to ignore the man's abrasive behaviour, though to be fair, Maxmillian was at fault. That would be something he would have to address later.

"What are you looking for?"

"A world map for starters, like an atlas. Maybe one of the country we're in and where we specifically are." Sygil's patience was being tried right now.

The man scoffed.

"Well," he began sarcastically. "A world map! I'll just pull one of those outta my ass real quick. Let me go fetch one yer majesty."

Before Sygil could say anything, however, the man snarked at him.

"You fucking idiot. Ask for something more realistic. As for an 'atlas', I've no idea whatever the hell that is."

Sygil clenched his fist and teeth in frustration and interrupted before the man could continue.

"Just show me what maps you have then, I'll consider purchasing one once I see the quality for myself."

"You can have a quick glance is all. Anything more than 10 seconds and you have to pay for it. You got that!"

Sygil waved him off calmly, though internally he was tempted to string the bastard up by his neck.

"Sure, just get me a map."

"Wait here. And no touching anything!" With that, the man left to go grab something from behind him out of sight, leaving Maxmillian and Sygil, both of which were internally fuming, Maxmillian more so than Sygil would realise.

"Just say the word sir, and this inbred bastard will be singing you answers like a song-bird." Maxmillian had a tight grimace plastered on his face, and the way his hand rested on his sword was not doing much to reassure Sygil.

"I would appreciate it if you would not threaten people out of context Maxmillian," sighed Sygil.

"Word tends to spread fairly quickly, and I really don't need that sort of attention on me right now. Just ignore it for now, at least until I say so. Besides, people like him," he gestured as the man started to come back, "tend to get their fair due in time."

The man quirked an eyebrow at Sygil, catching the last part, but not fully understanding it, before rolling his eyes and laying a map on the table.

"Your ten seconds starts now," he spat.

Sygil and Maxmillian wasted no time, looking at the map. For Maxmillian, his maxed out stats allowed him to absorb many of the map's details far more quickly. For Sygil, however, he was less concerned about absorbing the map details so much as he was staring in disbelief and shock, daresay even offense.

After three seconds of looking at the map, he shot his gaze back up to the man.

"What the fuck is this?"

The man was caught off-guard at Sygil's exclamation, and was about to retort angrily, but Sygil beat him to it.

"I asked for a MAP! Not a drawing of some fairy-tale land."

The man stuttered in shock.

"Wh-what?! Are you fucking daft?!" He began indignantly.

"I don't know what a Re-Estize Kingdom is, but you're fucking with me right now. Go back into the room there, and get me a proper map."

"I don't know how retarded you are, but that 'Re-Estize Kingdom' is the name of the kingdom you're in, you stupid cunt."

Sygil's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Get back into the room and get me a PROPER map!"

The man grumbled as he grabbed the map and went back into the room. "Why the fuck do I get the loopy fuckers."

When the man came back, Sygil was waiting impatiently.

"Did you get an actual map this time?"

"Yes your majesty. One map coming up," snarked the man.

He laid the map out in full for Sygil to look at. Sygil looked at the map for several seconds, before sighing in exasperation.

"Jesus Christ….," began Sygil, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, briefly glancing at Maxmillian before returning his gaze back to the man.

"A map of Earth! EARTH! Have you heard of it, or is your head so far up your own ass you've mistaken your own shit for fairies!"

"You fuck-head. Can't you read a map! This is our world we live in! Basic knowledge even a peasant would know!"

"Really now? I just want a map of the area I'm in, is all. I'm not interested in your games."

"Are you gonna buy the map or not," shot the man impatiently.

Sygil took a proper glance at the map, taking in the names of the locations, the geography, everything. He probably wouldn't remember half of the shit, but from what he could get, it didn't seem to be any Earth continent he was aware, and the fact Earth did not exactly have a Re-Estize Kingdom as far as he was concerned.

Though, the more he looked at the map, and recalled the past experiences over the past day and night, the more he began to think.

_This isn't a coincidence. Something's not right._

He was broken from his thoughts by the man, however.

"Your ten seconds is up. That's 2 gold coins for the map, plus another gold coin for being a straight out dick to me."

Even the language and terminology everyone used was indicative of something wrong. Who bartered in gold coins in this day and age anymore? Very few, if at all. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like he was no longer on Earth, but in some strange medieval land.

"Don't play deaf with me now! What's next, you _conveniently_ have no money!" The man began to rant, until Sygil had enough of his thoughts being interrupted and spoke up.

"I'm not paying anything. You have nothing useful anyways." The man seemed to turn red at that, before he finally exploded, yelling at them both and pointing to the door.

"GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY SHOP! NOW! You fucking dim-witted idiots!"

Sygil, too busy in his thoughts to care, wordlessly complied, beckoning to Maxmillian to follow.

As Sygil exited out of the door, Maxmillian followed behind, shooting a scathing glare to the shop owner, who returned his own in kind.

As Maxmillian let the door close behind him, both could hear the man shouting from inside.

"And don't come back! Worthless cunts!"

Sygil let a frown form on his face.

"Talk about a warm reception to the town," he muttered under his breath, sparing a glance down the street.

He could see, what he assumed was, Beovhan's residence that he had mentioned earlier.

Looking at Maxmillian, he gestured to the large mansion.

"Perhaps we can try our luck with a more… friendly host."

"If you wish sir, I can interrogate the cartographer for information. Since we appear to not be in Yggdrasil, I am confident that the Geneva Convention will not apply to us here, therefore we are not liable to the normal laws and statutes concerning torture and information gathering." Maxmillian was calm, and unfaltering in his suggestion, fully confident that the method would work.

Sygil shook his. "First off, the Geneva Convention applies to Earth, not Yggdrasil. Secondly, there's no need to bother. The guy seems mentally unstable anyways so interrogating him wouldn't yield anything valuable. Probably doing some drug… kingdom my ass." Sygil rolled his eyes at the shopkeepers words and the 'maps' he had been provided. He didn't want believe the man's words, but based on the past events in the last 24 hours, there was a small seed of doubt that did question if there was some truth behind the shopkeeper's claim.

So far, he had yet to see a modern technological item of the modern day nearby.

_It's like I'm in a medieval town._

"Then where exactly are we?" Maxmillian's question was not a surprise to him, considering he was pondering that himself.

"I don't really know. Perhaps Mr. Beovhan can help us."

Maxmillian nodded slowly as they approached the mansion. "He seems quite eager to assist. That is indeed a smart choice for him."

Sygil shook his head slowly in scepticism. "Too eager. Something seems a bit off about him. Keep your guard up."

"Of course sir, though, may I inquire as to why you feel he is likely a threat? When I did an Appraisal on him, he wasn't even Level 1."

Sygil looked quizzically at Maxmillian's choice of words. "What do you mean an Appraisal? As in magic?"

Maxmillian continued unperturbed. "Yes sir. Did you not want me to have done so?"

"No, knowing everyone's strengths and weaknesses is important. I'm just surprised that you could do something like that in the real world. Can you perform a demonstration for me later?"

While he wanted to scoff at the idea of magic being performed, the fact remained that Maxmillian, an NPC he created in Yggdrasil, was currently conversing and interacting with him here in the real world.

"An appraisal, or other Tier magic?"

"If you can do both, then yes. Later though, we are nearly here." He gestured to the mansion as they arrived closer.

The mansion, true to Beovhan's words, was indeed quite large, about three stories high with just as many visible floors judging by the numerous windows. White stone and marble walls, with dark stone rafters, constituted the majority of the mansion.

A small fountain could be seen directly in front of the mansion doorway, with accompanying green shrubs and hedges surrounding the simple stone pathway that lead from the main street road. There was no fence to slow down trespassers, however.

Out of all the houses and buildings in the town so far, it was the most impressive.

As they walked up the footpath to the door, Sygil addressed Maxmillian.

"And to answer your question, yes I am cautious of Beovhan. For good reason too. My past experience has taught me one thing. Never trust anyone. Ever." With that, they were at door.

Sygil knocked sharply and loudly three times in succession, hoping to get someone's attention, if anyone was even home.

Several seconds later, the door could be heard being unlocked, and finally opened.

Before him to stood an average-height woman, dressed in a rather loose fitting, but fancy, white dress that covered most of her arms, body and the entirety of her legs. Her hair was weaved back in a bun, and a gentle smile radiated on her face.

Giving her a cursory glance over, she looked to be no older than her early thirties. She looked to be rather slim, save for a noticeable bulge from her stomach region.

"Yes? How can I help you?" She gently inquired.

Sygil coughed to clear his voice. "I am here to speak to Mr Beovhan Augustus. He insisted I come speak to him once I got the chance. Is he here?"

The woman gave him and Maxmillian a quick glance over, noting the dust and flecks of dried blood on Sygil's clothes. He really needed to get that cleaned up at some stage.

"Unfortunately, he is out right now. However, if you would like, you can come in and wait for him to return. He should be no more than half an hour at tops. He had some quick errands to run is all," she spoke sweetly to him, ignoring the blood on his clothes.

"That would be much appreciated, thank-you." He beckoned to Maxmillian to enter after him as the woman held the door open.

As they entered, they were greeted with a spacious waiting room, complete with tables and chairs. Upon one of the tables was a large vase containing several rather large purple flowers that were emitting a faint, but pleasant, aroma. While Sygil ignored them, Maxmillian seemed to analyse them for several seconds, before redirecting his attention to the woman before them both.

The woman closed the door behind them. "Please, take a seat. There's no nearby civilised settlements, so I assume you had a long journey and must be tired. I will go fetch one of the maids to bring you refreshments." With that, she disappeared around another doorway.

Maxmillian remained standing, hand resting on his sabre hilt, whilst Sygil sat down. He didn't bother to ask Maxmillian to sit down; if he wanted to he would. If not, that was his choice. Instead, he lost himself in his thoughts.

He recalled the maps he was shown, coupled with his encounters with strange creatures and animal-people, as well as Mamxillian's presence. The customs of the people of Merigold, ranging from the medieval architecture and lack of technology, to the clothes and mannerisms and terminology used by the residents, was off. Everything seemed to point to him being back in Yggdrasil. Except, his injury could be felt; Maxmillian clearly stated this wasn't Yggdrasil, and while he was ultimately unsure, he trusted an NPC to know its own environment more than him. Realistically, he doubted he was in Yggdrasil; the realism and return of physical sensations, such as touch, smell and many more, were indicative of that. That left three other possibilities.

One, this was all an elaborate hoax set up to confuse him, but he discounted that idea due to the absurdity of the notion, as well as the level of investment required to pull such a feat off.

The second possibility was that he was currently enduring a string of bad luck and had essentially 'teleported', for lack of a better word, into a remote part of Earth where stranger people existed. However, the fact that no-one had ever discovered these animal people and the seemingly primitive settlement of Merigold was bewildering to him. _Perhaps a government cover-up?_ But even then, it would have been known in the supernatural world and he would have heard something concerning superstitious animal-folk.

That left the last, most baffling, and concerning, possibility. That he had ended up in a different world, whether a different time in history/evolution, or straight up a different world with different laws of reality and evolution. And the more he thought about it, the more it seemed a possibility.

"Did you want me to run an Appraisal on the woman and anyone else?"

Maxmillian's suggestion broke his train of thought, and he absent-mindedly waved a hand on agreement. "Yeah, go right ahead."

"Excellent, sir."

No sooner had Maxmillian responded did a maid appear around the corner carrying a silver tray containing three porcelain teacups alongside a teapot.

As the maid approached and set the tray on the table, Sygil took in her features.

She was dressed in black short-dress with gold-coloured embroidery that stopped at the knees. A white undershirt could be seen that stopped just shy of her elbows and was buttoned up to her collar-bone to cover any cleavage the dress itself would have left. Black stockings disappeared under her dress, revealing no skin, while black dress boots with a low heel travelled halfway to her knees from the ankles. A silver buckle and leather strap wrapped around her ankles. White gloves ascended half-way up her lower arms, leaving only part of her bare arms exposed.

Her head was hung low, so he couldn't fully discern her facial features, but her skin was tanned, whilst her wild, unruly hair, which cascaded beyond her shoulders onto her chest and back, was a rustic red to dark brown in colour. Perhaps the light was making it difficult to discern.

When she lifted her head upon placing the tray of drinks on the table, he caught two interesting features.

The first was a bluish, banded tattoo that wrapped around her throat like a collar, complete with symbols and patterns that never exceeded the two thin band lines that acted as a border.

The second was her despondent, dead look of despair, as if she had given up all hope.

As she stepped back, he caught a third interesting feature, which was the pair of pointed animal ears akin to a wolf's adorned on the top of her head, barely hidden in the jungle of her head hair.

"Quite the looker, isn't she," called out the woman that greeted them both, rounding the corner to come sit in front of them both.

Sygil casually glanced back at the woman to reply.

"I guess. I'm not here for pleasantries though."

She shrugged indifferently as she slid into her own chair, pulling the hem of her dress up as she did so.

"Suit yourself. She does go cheaply for the night, if you change your mind, however."

Sygil slightly frowned, as did Maxmillian.

"Pardon?"

"She goes for about 10 Silver a session, per person. Most men usually take the offer, especially those interested in a bit of a rougher time," chuckled the woman, staring directly at Sygil, "She can be a bit of a fighter from what I've heard."

"I do hope you're not implying what I think you are," replied Sygil with distaste, the tone not unnoticed by the woman.

"My apologies, I just assumed with all the blood on you that you were a bit of a scrapper yourself."

"I prefer the term _business-man_," retorted Sygil with thin lips.

Sygil glanced at the maid, who was currently standing behind the woman to the distant side, out of the way he assumed, with her head hung low and her hands clasped in front of her.

"Perhaps your companion here would be interested in some time with her instead?" offered the woman.

That was it.

"You dare suggest that I, or even better yet, my Lord, the One and Only Supreme Being, should bed with that filthy demi-human?!" Hissed Maxmillian. The woman was taken aback while Sygil raised an eyebrow at Maxmillian's burst.

"Did you not hear what he just said! We are here on business related reasons ONLY!"

"That's enough Maxmillian!" warned Sygil. "Take a seat and calm down."

Maxmillian snarled at both of the women, but refused to sit down.

The woman spoke up, surprise written on her face. "I apologise, I didn't realise you actually disliked the demi-humans that much! I can organise for one of the human maids if you – " -"That won't be necessary," interrupted Sygil.

"If you insist. I didn't catch your names?"

"I'm Sygil, and this is Maxmillian. Please excuse his behaviour, he tends to speak without thinking sometimes." _This is getting out of hand with Maxmillian!_

"And your name is?" he rotated his right hand to prompt her for a response.

"Oh, I'm sorry, how rude of me! I'm Clair. Clair Augustus." Clair smiled sweetly as she straightened out her dress.

Sygil gestured to the maid. "And who's the maid?"

"Oh, her name's not important, but if you insist, we call her Trisha." Clair adopted a frown, however, as she continued.

"She's one of our favourites, does her work pretty well and brings in plenty of money on many nights, especially from the mercenaries. Though, she was a bitch to train at first, **weren't you**," she called to the maid coldly. Trisha responded monotonely. "Yes mistress."

Clair's sweet smile returned as she faced Sygil again. "As you can see, though, she's well domesticated now. Had to after she was brought in from those dreadful savage tribes in the forest. Murderous pack of brigands."

_Tribes in the forest? Is she from Gallheia's tribe?_ Sygil pursed his lips.

"Really now?"

"Oh yes," nodded Clair as she reached for her tea to take a sip. After daintly taking a sip, she continued. "Her and a bunch of others were captured in a raid years back. My brother led the party to bring in some slaves for us to use. Unfortunately, half the party was killed, including my brother, but we managed to capture a fair few of them in return. Alas, half of the captured ones began to kill themselves, refusing to work for us. Some, however, tried to resist us. Trisha here, was at the head of those that tried to resist. Despite her looks, she's a hell of a fighter, as were all of them. It took a fair bit of reconditioning to civilise them, especially her." She took another sip.

"Once we civilised them, we had to operate on them all and brand them to prevent them using magic. Many died in the operations, but Trisha here! Trisha was strong! She endured, as did several others. We keep them employed in our business, but Trisha here, she works around the mansion. Keeps it clean and helps satisfy any of our clients or hired hands."

The more he heard, the more Sygil was disgusted. _You fucking savage._

"And what exactly is your business, anyway?" He tried to remain cordial.

"When my husband returns, he'll tell you all about it. It's part of what he probably wants to speak to you about," she chuckled.

There seemed to be a pause, until Clair spoke again. "Have some tea. It'll be good for your health." Sygil politely declined, however.

"No thanks. I appreciate the offer but I'm not thirsty."

"You're certain?"

Maxmillian spat at Clair in contempt. "Are you deaf? He just told you."

"Now, now, Maxmillian. No need to be rude."

"Sorry, sir."

"It's fine," sighed Clair. "I just thought you might like some."

The sound of the front door being opened caught everyone's attention.

"Ah, darling! You're home!"

Beovhan chuckled as he closed the door. "Yes honey, I'm back. Was following up a report from Cain when old Clive asked me to settle a complaint of his."

Beovhan walked over to Clair, giving her a loving hug and kiss, before taking in Sygil and Maxmillian.

"I see we have guests!" He exclaimed excitedly.

"Sygil, and Maxmillian right?" The cheery smile failed to leave his face. Sygil merely dipped his head slightly in confirmation. "Mr Beovhan," he greeted.

"Please, I told you. You don't need to call me that," he politely waved the title away as he took a seat next to his wife.

"So, I assume you're here to hear what I have to say?" asked the portly man knowingly.

"Yes." Sygil didn't mince words, as evident by his curt reply.

"Well," began Beovhan, rubbing his hands together. "What did you want to talk about?"

Sygil raised an eyebrow as he leaned back into the seat, letting an arm dangle over the arm-rest, before replying with disinterest. "I don't know. You tell me, since you're the one that insisted I come here in the first place."

"Eh-he, er, well, yes," began Beovhan, scratching the side of his neck. "You looked like a traveller in need of some potential assistance. I like to help those I can."

"Really now?" Sygil wasn't buying it. "You just happen to help every stray that catches your eye?" Beovhan leaned over to grab one of the teacups, glancing at Sygil if he could have it. Sygil politely gestured to say 'help himself'.

Beovhan took a sip, before replying with a slight chuckle. "Well, when you put it like that…"

Clair joined in his chuckling. "Oh, dear. So kind and helpful as always. So, what was up with Clive anyway?"

"Oh, that? Apparently he had some, according to him anyways, rude and rowdy customers that he, and I quote here, 'seemed to come from the ass-end of nowhere and act like it too'. You know how he is though." He shrugged off Clair's question and took another sip of the tea, before facing Sygil and Maxmillian.

"I assume he at least answered your questions though?"

"And how would you know about that?"

"Oh, easy, Clive said two strangers were asking for where they were. Quite easy to piece together he was referring to you, especially considering we don't get many strangers here, after all. Did you get what you wanted, by chance?"

"Unfortunately no," Sygil ran a hand through his hair. "The places on his maps seemed a little… different from what I expected?"

"Foreigner?" Suggested Beovhan.

Sygil paused for a second, before answering. "You could say that. I was hoping to find my bearings, but, assuming what he showed on the map was true, I feel more lost than I was before."

Clair nodded sagely. "That's unfortunate to hear. If you're not from around here, where are you from then?"

"East of here," returned Sygil carefully.

"Oh my? How far? What nation?" Prompted Clair.

"Far east. Russia." He was just throwing a random nation out, hoping they would reply positively and say yes, they were familiar with the name Russia. Or anything at this stage.

Beovhan interrupted. "I haven't heard of this Russia? Is it beyond the Beastmen territories?"

Now it was Sygil's turn to be confused. "I haven't heard of this Beastmen territory you speak of."

"Then, how did you get here?" questioned Clair.

"That's what I'm still trying to figure out."

"Well surely you must have some idea?" Beovhan quirked an eyebrow as he asked, before glancing back at his wife. "Though, that probably explains your eagerness to get a hold of a map. If you had asked me, I would have been happy to provide you one!"

"If you have one, I would appreciate having a look, then. If it's not too much of a bother?" Especially considering he was essentially kicked out of the cartographer's store.

Maxmillian leaned over to whisper in Sygil's ear. "Pardon my ignorance sir, but we spent time going through the maps at the cartographers place. What makes you think he will provide anything different?"

"Maybe not, but I think it's a waste to not see what he might potentially have for a map. Besides, he's offering it to us freely, unlike our cartographer friend who wanted to likely extort us for gold. Which we don't currently have on us."

Maxmillian leaned back in understanding.

Beovhan chuckled heartily, before turning to the maid. "Trisha! Go to my office and fetch my map! Be quick about it!" He snapped.

"Yes master." Trish bowed her head before leaving the room to fetch the map.

As she left, Sygil inquired to Beovhan.

"So, Clair tells me you are involved in a business of sorts? Mind explaining what that business is?"

"Ah yes! Clair and I run a farming business. We are one of the largest suppliers of grain, oats and wheats for the Re-Estize Kingdom. We supply nearly 30% of the Kingdom's grain and oats. As such, we have quite a lucrative business."

"Is that what all those fields are then?"

"Yes. We have many leagues of property that expands right to the border edge of the forest. Though, such large property requires a lot more work than you could imagine."

Beovhan sighed as he placed his cup back on the table.

"Between the number of workers in the fields to maintain, as well as the guards we need to keep them in line and defend my property, it can be quite draining. Especially with those blasted savage tribes in the woods!" He spat the last part, like it left an offensive taste in his mouth just thinking about it even.

"Why do you need guards to keep the workers in line?" Sygil had a feeling he knew what the answer was, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horses mouth instead.

"Simple. We use demi-human slaves, and while they have been re-educated and civilised, we still need to keep a vigilant eye on them lest they try to think they can revolt or escape." Beovhan answered as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Beovhan looked quizzically at Sygil and Maxmillian upon noticing their displeased faces.

"Is there something wrong?"

Maxmillian answered. "It's disgusting that you would use demi-humans in such a way."

Beovhan looked taken aback, but Maxmillian continued. Sygil was internally face-palming, however.

"Such filthy creatures should be put out of their miserable existence. I don't know why you would trust them with your crops; human labour will always be much better. Frankly, I struggle to determine what's more offensive. Their presence in procuring human produce, or your willingness to use them."

Beovhan closed his mouth and Clair looked at him with surprise. "That's… a rather strong response?"

Sygil interjected. "What Maxmillian means is that using slavery will bring many inherent, and frankly, unnecessary risks. It is as crude and ineffective as it is barbaric. I was under the impression it was outlawed."

Clair scoffed. "And what, where you come from slavery isn't used? No offence, but your nation must be underdeveloped to not utilise such labour." Beovhan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now, now, honey, we shouldn't jump to conclusions. Maybe they do things different. I'm sorry, she meant no offence." The last part was directed at the men adjacent from him.

"None taken," replied Sygil. "Though, I stand by what I said. Automated machinery is much faster, efficient and cheaper in the long run, instead of relying on unwilling labour. The cost of feeding and housing alone would be bothersome. And that's not taking into consideration that an unhappy workforce is a dangerous workforce. Are you sure you could handle the outcome when things get out of hand?"

Beovhan laughed, clapping Clair on the back, before proudly boasting. "That's a good one! Clair here is capable of Third Tier Magic. She put the magical seals around their wretched necks, and with the mercenaries we hired, there is no chance of a revolt occurring. Besides, even if they tried, which they won't, they are fully aware of the consequences. We've made sure of that."

As he finished, Trisha came walking in and presented the map to Beovhan, who took it from her, opening it up and placing it on the table beside the tray of drinks. Trisha simply stepped away to the side, waiting dutifully for an order.

"I wouldn't be too certain. You take away everything from a person, and they have every reason to fight back. Not just for themselves, but for their children and future generations." Sygil was stating facts.

Clair snorted. "I doubt that very much. We've ensured that our slaves can't have children again."

Sygil narrowed his eyes, feeling his disgust for the couple before him rising with each passing moment. "What do you mean?"

"Oh well we sterilise our slaves," explained Beovhan matter-of-factly. "Can't have them breeding! For the men we castrate them. For the women, we remove their womb, so they can never bear children again. Would be a pain if every client managed to successfully impregnate one after a single session. This way there are no future generations for them to have an incentive to fight back, as well as cuts back the costs of having to deal with pregnant slaves. Before, we'd have just sold them off or cut the baby out. But clients don't like heavily scarred females, and such procedures tend to have rather high mortality rates. It's easier this way for all parties involved."

Sygil was at a loss for words. He had encountered many messed up things in his long life, and he had even done some rather unsavoury actions in his life, but this? This was straight fucked up. He may have been a demon, but even he had standards.

"Really now? And what of your conscience? How does that feel?" implored Sygil.

Beovhan looked at Sygil questioningly. "What do you mean? They're just savages. Demihumans. No-one cares about them. They're nothing but a pest in these lands, and her tribe," he gestured to Trisha, "does nothing but going around and raping and slaughtering men, innocent boys even!"

Sygil leaned forward. "While I agree that rape and other such vile activities should not be allowed to go unpunished, what you are doing is no different to them. In fact, it makes you a hypocrite. It makes you just as much of a monster as the people you are fighting against. The only difference is you stoop down to their level and do it just because."

Beovhan seemed to grow angry at that. "Excuse me?! My wife's brother was brutally murdered by those savages! Are you saying I should welcome in the same vile cretin that desecrated his body into my home and forgive it?"

Sygil traced a gloved finger in the rim of the table, finding no dust. "Absolutely not. But, as the saying goes, you reap what you sow. And you are sowing the seeds of discontent amongst your 'employees' and further exciting the violence between the tribes and yourself. Sooner or later, it will catch up to you." There was a warning undertone in his voice.

"But enough of that," began Sygil, adopting a lighter tone. "As much as I may disagree with your choices, it is not my problem to deal with. Now, was there anything else you wanted to discuss with me?"

Beovhan was quick to put the unpleasantness behind as well, and he jumped straight in.

"Ah yes! Part of why I invited you here was because, seeing as you're travelling from afar, I figured you might be interested in some work to keep those bellies of yours fed."

"While I thank you for your offer-" "-I insist! You must be exhausted. I can offer one of the guest rooms for you to stay at. Please, stay the night! It's free, so you don't have to worry about coin."

Sygil tilted his head in suspicion, but Clair then spoke. "Please, at least for the night. It's going to be dark soon, and I know that the inn can be a little bit expensive. It's the least we could do." She had the same, sweet smile on her face.

He looked out the window behind him, and could in fact see the amber glow of the sun beginning to set, evident by the deepening shadows on the land behind him and in the street.

"Perhaps. If I were to take you on this offer, what's the catch?"

"Oh, there's no catch," waved Clair dismissively. "We can discuss your employment terms at dinner," she continued cheerily.

"I was not aware I was being employed? Nor do I have interest in working for you or anyone at this stage."

"But surely, now, you should wait until you hear the details," reassured Beovhan.

"But enough of that. We should discuss this over dinner. Besides, even if you're not interested, we can discuss arranging for transport to any of the cities within the kingdom if you need to, right?"

It was tempting, if only to gain more information. But was it necessary? No. Besides, something seemed off about Beovhan and Clair. And not just because they supported slavery and other associated barbaric practices.

Still, perhaps it would be worth it. He needed some time to think things over, however. He was currently undergoing what felt like an information overload today, and he needed some quiet time to reflect. And maybe gather some more information about the couple before him. And what better place than to go where loose lips float about; a bar.

"Perhaps later, then," suggested Sygil. "I would like to stretch my legs and familiarise myself with the town for a couple hours."

"That's fine, go ahead. Dinner will be ready in three hours anyways. Be sure to be back by then," smiled Clair.

"Trisha," called Beovhan. "Clear the table of drinks and wait in the kitchen for me."

Trisha quickly came to the table, bending over to grab the tray of drinks. As she did, however, Beovhan suddenly reprimanded her in panic. "Watch the map you fool!"

She quickly tried to tip the tray in the other direction to avoid spilling the drinks on Beovhan's map. Instead, the tea spilt all over Sygil's legs, the teacups bouncing on the soft carpet without damage.

Trisha's eyes met his with panic, and her breath hitched.

"You damned clutz! Look at the mess you made!" roared Beovhan, jumping up and grabbing Trisha by her free wrist to pull her in closer to him. Clair had a frown of disgust marred on her face as Beovhan yelled at Trisha again.

"You inbred fucking savage! Look at the mess you made!" A resounding smack could be heard as he backhanded her across the face, drawing some blood from her mouth. She took it all with silence and no resistance.

Sygil stared at the mess the tea had made on his pant legs. Ultimately, it was just a simple spill; an accident and nothing worth stressing over. As he looked up to see Beovhan tearing into the hapless maid, Clair apologised. "I'm so sorry for the mess. Sometimes those savages aren't fully trained well, and for that I do apologise." Sygil brushed off her apology however as he stood up.

"Do you enjoy causing trouble and embarrassing me in front of guests? Huh?! Well do you!" By now he was screaming in her face, and she kept her eyes downcast in shame and misery.

He reared his hand back to deliver another strike, and just as his fist was about to make contact with her face again, he felt a hand grab his.

Turning in surprise, Sygil was firmly holding his hand at bay with his own. He struggled to carry the punch through, but Sygil's grip was vice-like. Sygil spoke calmly.

"Now let's just calm down here, people. Nothing needs to devolve into violence, especially over something as trivial as spilt tea."

All eyes were on him now as Beovhan spoke up. "I'm sorry she made a mess of your clothes; she should know better!" "It doesn't really matter," sighed Sygil. "They're already filthy anyway, from the blood and dirt earlier, so I doubt a little tea at this stage is really going to be a game-changer. At least, not for me anyways." Sygil shot a pointed look at Beovhan.

"If you want to prove you are more civilised than these 'so-called' savages, prove it by showing restraint. I trust you can do that?"

Beovhan sputtered indignantly for a second, before sighing and relenting, letting go of the maid and slackening his muscles in the arm Sygil held. "I suppose it's unbecoming for a guest to have to witness such things. It is the duty of the master to ensure his slaves are well behaved. You have my sincere apologies for having to witness that and have that mess on you. Would you like your clothes washed? I can get one of the other maids to do that. Unless Trisha here," he glared at the maid, "can do that simple job without fucking it up!"

"That's unnecessary," coughed Sygil to gain his attention. He bent down to pick up the scattered teacups and kettle before placing both on the tray Trisha was holding.

"We'll be back in a few hours to talk. Try not to be too mad at her. Accidents do happen from time to time."

Walking around his chair, he beckoned to Maxmillian to follow him.

Maxmillian beat him to the door, opening it for him to leave out, before shutting it behind him.

As the door was closing, Sygil could hear Clair reprimanding the hapless maid.

_Guess some things never change._

* * *

Maxmillian was the first to speak.

"They appear to have one of the ingredients to treat holy and unholy injuries in their possession."

"What?!"

"When you ordered me to conduct research on holy and unholy elemental magic, one of the ingredients to treat related injuries was a flower termed Alarosaceia. When combined with other ingredients, it can help. Following preliminary appraisals I conducted on the flower in their possession, I confirmed it is indeed Alarosaceia. I thought you would be interested to know is all? It was one of your orders back in Yggdrasil."

Sygil couldn't believe what he was hearing. A fictional flower that could help treat his infection was in the very room they were just in! He had to resist scoffing at the idea, but if it were true, then he could stand a chance, maybe. However, Maxmillian continued.

"I also performed an Appraisal on all of them. Clair appears to be Level 10. Interestingly, the demi-human is level 24, which is the highest I have encountered in this town so far."

Sygil held a hand up. "I'm gonna stop you right there. What do you mean levels?"

Maxmillian cocked his head to the side. "Levels, denoting overall cumulated strength, much like in Yggdrasil. Though I have yet to see if they can actually perform like I'd expect them to. A demonstration would be in order to see if they truly do compare to Yggdrasil levels, or else there might be a potential power discrepancy."

"Then perhaps you can perform a demonstration for me?" suggested Sygil. He was sceptical of this magic talk, but if even one person could perform it, then the likelihood he was not on Earth would indeed be a real possibility.

"Of course sir. What would you like me to perform?"

"Hmm. How about we first get away from the mansion."

"Absolutely sir. Would you approve of a Fly spell? Or perhaps a Fireball?"

Both of these 'spells', which were Yggdrasil spells, could present tangible physical evidence to him. Then again, Maxmillian was standing before him, alive and talking. Realistically, that should not have been the case. Perhaps, this would be a way to confirm?

Sygil nodded his head. "Indeed. Fly to roof of that building," he pointed to the tallest building in the street.

"Of course sir, will you be joining me?"

He had his doubts, but he might as well act calmly about it. So far, things were breaking reality. He doubted it could get even more absurd today than magic.

Except, when Maxmillian recited the spell, Sygil had to keep his jaw from dropping as the NPC floated to the roof of the desired building.

_What?!_

He shook his head to confirm he wasn't imaging things.

_Since I count as a 'player', does that mean Yggdrasil spells can work for me too? No. I learnt that the other month. But…_

The more he thought about, the stronger of a possibility it was. So, steeling himself, he tried.

"[Fly]." And fly, he did.

He had to hold his surprise as he felt himself levitate off of the ground and float rapidly towards where Maxmillian was. However, as soon as he looked elsewhere and thought of another building, he could feel himself change direction.

_Is this linked to my thoughts?_

Correcting his course to meet Maxmillian at the top of the building, he felt himself change direction to meet him.

_It is linked to my thoughts!_

He felt himself touch down next to Maxmillian, surprised at the revelation of the Yggdrasil spell working.

_Wait. If [Fly] works, does that mean all my other Yggdrasil abilities work? Including the levels Maxmillian is mentioning?_

"Maxmillian. Do I have a Level?"

"Yes sir. You are currently Level 81."

_So I do have stats, and levels from Yggdrasil? But, that could only mean…._

It finally dawned on him. Everything, with realisation, finally made sense. From the beast in the woods, to the animal people, to the medieval setting, different map of unfamiliar locations, to the presence of his Yggdrasil Levels and magic.

This wasn't Earth.

This was a different world altogether.

He recalled Maxmillian's words from earlier in the forest. "A new world indeed," he muttered.

But then, it sank in him. This wasn't Earth, which meant….

_My safehouses! What about my safehouses! No! NONONONONOOOO!_

He could feel uncertainty and panic try to grip him, but he refused to let it happen. But there was no denying the facts. He wasn't on Earth anymore. Which meant he didn't have access to any of his safe-houses to reorganise himself. What that also meant was he wouldn't be able to address his holy injury dilemma in any manageable way right now either!

_Fuck! You have to be kidding me!_

His eyes frantically darted around as his mind scrambled to think of something, anything!

_If I don't have access to a safe-house, how can I properly deal with Asphaestus or this injury?!_

The whole plan was to get to one of his safe-houses in the world. Any one of them, it didn't matter which one. But now, that plan was effectively ruined. All of his plans were!

He couldn't help contain himself anymore. He tried to remain calm, he really did, but faced with the reality he was going to probably die soon, he couldn't but scream out his anger in frustration.

"FUCK!"

"Sir, are you alright?!" Maxmillian was by his side in an instant, watching him carefully with worry.

After several seconds to calm down, he replied tersely to Maxmillian. "Yes. I'm fine."

"Then what are your next orders, sir?"

"I don't know Maxmillian, I don't know." At this stage, Sygil felt lost. What was he to do? How was he going to deal with his Holy injury?

Really, he just felt like getting drunk and trying to forget his worries now. Realistically, though, he didn't have the time to waste.

_Accepting my shoddy reality it is then…_

He felt himself slump down, seemingly in defeat, as he began to think hard and desperately. Hoping to find a solution to help him in his predicament.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, contemplating all the evidence presented before him. He couldn't afford to allow himself to wallow in despair. He needed to keep going, find a way somehow, no matter what. He needed to atone to see her again, and he was damned if he was going to let this setback stop him. He would find a way. He always had.

The more he thought about his predicament, the more anger welled up in him.

_This is all thanks to that bastard Asphaestus!_ If it wasn't for Asphaestus, he wouldn't be in this predicament, stuck in a foreign world with a borderline incurable Holy infection. Oh, what he would give to personally wring that bastards neck himself….

But he lacked his safehouses, and all of the associated tools and contacts at his disposal. Hell, he lacked most of the components needed to heal himself. The only things that could help heal him were relegated to the world of fantasy, such as magical concoctions containing rare herbs and ingredients. _Alarosaceia… Didn't Maxmillian just say though…?_

Slowly, it dawned on him. He may be trapped in a foreign world, lacking the equipment, resources and knowledge, but that didn't mean he was at a complete disadvantage however. A new world meant new opportunities after all.

Slowly realising the true depth of his situation, he couldn't help but allow a dark smile to morph on his face, a low, staggered chuckle emanating from his lips.

* * *

Maxmillian stared at his Creator intently, ready to perform any task that he wanted from him in a heartbeat. His Creator currently seemed displeased; about what, he was unsure. If he could find the cause of his problem, he would gladly destroy it for its insolence! Alas, his creator was remaining tight-lipped about what was making him upset.

Sygil appeared to be deep in thought, and for what he estimated to be nearly an hour, he sat there. And there was nothing he could do to help his creator, so he stood there by his side, dutifully.

He watched as the sun set, and night began. He watched and observed as the street lamps were light by passing patrols below, and he watched as Sygil continued to sit there, hands steepled for his chin to rest on. Maxmillian could feel himself become unnerved. Was his creator aright? It would seem the opposite in fact. Regardless, he waited for Sygil to do something, to say something, anything. But he didn't.

But then, Sygil finally stirred, a low chuckle coming from his lips, like an inside joke that only he understood and found amusing.

By now, the moon was out, casting its own light into the town streets and the surrounding fields that could be seen nearby.

Sygil stood up, and walked to the edge of the building they atop of, leaning over the stone balcony to look at the minimal town life several stories below.

Maxmillian waited with anticipation, until finally, Sygil spoke. It wasn't with concern, or uncertainty, or even despair. No, it was with conviction, with strength and resolve.

"Maxmillian," started Sygil with steel resolve in his voice.

"Yes sir?"

"Are you certain we're not in Yggdrasil?"

"Positive sir."

He could hear his creator lightly chuckle. "I see. Then we truly are in a foreign land… a new world if you may."

Maxmillian wasn't sure how to answer to that; it was seemingly basic knowledge to understand as far was he was concerned. Was there perhaps something he was missing that Sygil was aware of?

"We are presented with a unique opportunity before us, Maxmillian. Before us is a world with different rules, different circumstances, and different potential than either of our original worlds."

_Either original worlds? What does he mean?_

Sygil continued.

"Do you know that that means for us, Maxmillian?"

"I am unsure sir?"

Sygil allowed a small smile to form on his face. "It means we have a world that has much to offer us, and all we have to do is take it. You seem to remember the research I tasked you back in Yggdrasil?"

"Of course sir."

"Well, with the presence of one of these otherwise non-existent ingredients, there is likely much more to be exploited in this world. This world could be the key that I am looking for."

"If I may ask sir, what is it you specifically are looking for?"

Sygil pursed his lips, before frowning slightly.

"How loyal are you to me?" Sygil watched Maxmillian carefully, gauging for a response.

"You are my creator, the one and only Supreme Being. As such, my loyalty lies only with you, and your wish is my command. I will gladly give you my life. To die for you would be an honour sir. Give me any command, and I will follow it to the letter."

He spoke with conviction, fully believing every word he spoke. Sygil watched him for several more seconds.

"Prove it."

Maxmillian didn't even hesitate, drawing his sabre, and before Sygil could even react, he reversed his grip so the blade was pointed to his own stomach, and then he thrust.

The blade barely depressed the uniform when he felt Sygil wrap a strong hand around his own wrist, preventing him from actually impaling himself.

"Are you crazy?!" exclaimed Sygil, causing Maxmillian to look at him in confusion.

"Sir? Is this not what you wanted when you wanted me to prove my loyalty?"

_This guy's fucking fanatical!_ Sygil didn't voice his thought, however.

"I think you've proven your point to me. I trust your loyalty."

"Your trust will not be misplaced, my Lord!" Maxmillian almost seemed to beam at him like a child.

Sygil released his grip on the sword, ordering Maxmillian to sheath it.

"I ask for your loyalty, because I will need it for what is to come soon."

"You need not ask sir, I will always be loyal to you, no matter what sir!"

"Your words mean a lot to me, Maxmillian, but we'll soon see…."

Maxmillian was about to object and further declare his fealty, but Sygil continued.

"We first need to know how this world works; what rules it operates by, and how to properly exploit those rules survive." _And from there, find a way to get back at Asphaestus. I have no idea if he was transported here with me. Only time will tell. First thing's first, though. I need to find a way to stop this infection before things get worse._

"Just say the word, and I will bring this world to its knees for you to rule over." With those words, Maxmillian prostrated before him on one knee with his head bowed.

"I'm not interested in the world right now… though…" he looked forlornly at the near empty streets below, recalling the enslaved maid back with Clair and Beovhan. "It wouldn't hurt if I took a piece of this world to help my goals."

"Then allow me to serve you how you see fit, and together, we can make this world your throne to sit upon."

No words were exchanged further, but the more Sygil thought about it, the more tempting the idea would sound under normal circumstances.

_If I didn't have to deal with this infection and Asphaestus, then perhaps I would have indulged myself in the idea of ruling over a world and changing it? It most certainly wouldn't hurt to cleanse it…._

"One thing at a time, Maxmillian. One thing at a time…" And with those words, Sygil beckoned Maxmillian to follow him.

"First, we need to gain information. Specifically, I am curious about our gracious hosts, Mr and Mrs Augustus."

As they approached the edge of the building to look upon the street, Sygil glanced at Maxmillian with a small smile.

"And what better place to gain the preliminary information we need than by going where loose lips float about."

Maxmillian followed Sygil's gaze as it rested upon an inn across the street. "An inn…" supplied Maxmillian.

"Precisely."

* * *

Merigold's inn tended to have a rather active night life despite the town's small size. Most of the residents, which weren't many, would often spend part of their night at the inn, eating food, getting drunk, poorly attempting to hook up with any woman that fancied their eyes, and otherwise waste away several hours of their existence.

It was the beginning hours of night, and the town's meagre number of residents were starting to fill in, some simply for a light meal and drink, others for a longer night of booze and unsuccessful flirting.

In total, the town likely held only 100 odd residents, more akin to a village. However, the wealth brought in by the Augustus family made the residents feel like nobles, and thus the small town could afford to have better quality housing and business'. The occasional traveller also helped bring in some additional coin, but it was mostly through the labours of the Augustus family and their profitable wheat and grain business that the town prospered.

The Augustus family were well known throughout the small town, and were in fact considered to be the official leaders and representatives for the town and its interests. And it was precisely for these reasons that Sygil was visiting the inn, with Maxmillian in tow.

"Forgive me for my ignorance sir, but why are we heading to the inn? Why not just simply ask Beovhan and Clair themselves. Demand the information, and if they refuse to comply, interrogate them."

Sygil sighed at Maxmillian's heavy-handed concept of an approach. "Because, there are some things we will likely not be told. Even if someone is popular, rumours tend to circulate. And I want to get a better grasp of those two before our dinner with them in…" he pulled his sleeve back, revealing his, surprisingly, still functional watch. "Two hours."

"Why are we even bothering with this dinner formality?"

"Because, there is much to be possibly gained. Supplies, funding, information, and possibly more. First though, we must gain some world information, get a feel for the local populace. Only then, can we make a move on them."

They arrived at the inn's entrance, and could vaguely overhear muffled chatter from inside.

"We will need some currency for later. We'll split up and gather information. I trust you can do so without causing a scene?" Sygil's quirked eyebrow was doubtful, but he could hope.

"Of course sir, if that is your desire."

"Good. If you can, SUBTLY_… _try to get some money from the patrons in here." He stressed the word, not wanting another scene to be caused.

"Of course sir. You can count on me."

"Good. Meet me in the front when you are done gathering information. And remember, try not to draw too much attention to yourself."

With that, Sygil opened the door.

* * *

The inside of the inn was typical to many small restaurant bars, with numerous wooden tables and chairs scattered about the floor, and a bar at the far wall where a bartender was providing a range of drinks to several seated patrons. The odd waiter or two could be seen floating around, serving food, collecting finished meals and otherwise dodging drunken compliments and flirting.

Few people turned to acknowledge the newcomers, the moderate chatter drowning out their entrance.

Sygil and Maxmillian walked down the steps onto the floor. As they walked by some of the patrons, they slowly started to get some looks from people, unused to seeing the strangers and their foreign attire.

Sygil decided to head straight to the bar where the bartender was, while Maxmillian headed to where other customers were.

He took note of the bartender, a rather burly woman with worn features and braided hair, who was currently focused on collecting the empty food plates from one of the waiters.

Taking a seat next to a drunk patron currently slumped on the bar bench, he observed a small, loose coin pouch clasped in his hands under the bench, out of sight to most people, especially the bartender.

A subtle glance around confirmed that most of the attention was off of him now, so his sleight of hand went unnoticed as he relieved the almost unconscious patron of his money.

_People don't talk unless there is something in it for them._ It was a well known, fact, and while he would try to gain free information, if need be, hopefully the coins in the bag would help 'convince' a person to speak more freely.

_This almost going to be too easy._ He thought in satisfaction. All he needed to do was do a preliminary check of the coin pouch to get a rough idea of what was in it. While he had no idea how the currency worked, it would at least let him know what to somewhat expect.

Upon opening the pouch, he had to resist giving in to frustration, holding back a twitching eyebrow.

_What fucking idiot puts goddamn rocks in a coin pouch?!_

The pouch was filled mostly with rocks that had no value whatsoever, and only several coins.

Pulling the coins out, he counted two copper coins, and one silver coin.

He had no idea what their worth was, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be enough.

"Can I help you?" The bartenders gruff voice broke his attention, and he looked up to face her.

Well, no time like the present.

"Yes actually. I was curious as to how such an establishment can sustain business so well considering the town's meagre population."

The woman scoffed. "You ain't from around here, are you."

Sygil smiled sadly. "Unfortunately. I was wondering if you happen to know anything about Mr and Mrs Augustus?"

"What's there to know? They're a successful couple that helped make this place prosperous."

"Really now?"

"Yeah. Before they took over the farming business, this place was nearly dry as a bone. Piss poor too. But they got it up and running. The people here respect them for it. Love the conditions too. Can't say I blame 'em."

"Even if such prosperity is built on slavery?"

The bartender scoffed. "As if anyone gives a damn about those rabid animals. It's no secret how this town prospers, but the way folks around here see it, they had it coming. Personally, I think they got off light."

He furrowed his brows in thought. "Why do you say that?"

"Those damned demi-humans are the reason my father's dead. Raped him, then killed him. It's what they do. Part of their messed up thinking. Like animals, they are."

"Are they all like that, though?"

"Oh probably not. But they'll go that way sooner or later. Better to kill 'em off before they can cause problems. Unfortunately, Merigold isn't a big place. And despite being the Kingdom's bigger producers, we get piss all for protection. Instead, Beovhan hires mercenaries to protect the place, keep the slaves in check, and otherwise keep those savages back."

"And have they been effective?"

"They're last raid was years ago. Killed a lot of our men in the process, but we killed several of theirs, and captured a fair few. Most chose to off themselves, but the ones that didn't? Well, they've been working for us now. They do a lot of the grunt work in the fields. Though Beovhan keeps a couple out for display and hire for those that need to relieve themselves. Personally, I think it's not worth it, but hey, it reimburses Beovhan for his efforts and helps keep this place plenty afloat."

"Do the slaves do all of the farming, then?"

She crossed her arms. "Most of it. Enough of them to do it. Plus, between the mercenaries and Beovhan, they can get a lot done. Despite their tendencies, they're productive workers. Provided they have the right motivation, of course."

"Of course," nodded Sygil slowly.

"But aren't they warriors, though? How do a couple mercenaries keep them from revolting?"

"HAH! The mercenaries just keep them in line. What prevents a revolution is the magic seals that prevent them from using magic. It also helps dampen their strength I hear. Between the reconditioning, mercenaries and seals, they're pretty docile now."

Sygil was about to inquire more, but the woman cut him off. "Anyhow, are you going to order a drink or not? Cos' I got customers here."

He was about to reply, when the doors to the inn suddenly crashed open, revealing the armoured knight mercenaries from earlier in all their boisterous glory enter.

All eyes seemed to snap to them as five of the mercenaries entered. The same five from earlier that he had encountered.

Currently they were descending the steps, removing their helmet as they approached the bar.

Noticing some of the eyes upon them, the leader of the group, Cain, Sygil assumed from the voice, barked out to the patrons.

"What? Something funny?"

That was enough to encourage the patrons to return to their meals and their beverages.

Sygil could hear the footsteps approach him from behind.

_Why do I get the distinct feeling this isn't going to end well?_

"You're in my seat," started Cain contemptuously.

Upon closer look, Sygil took in the mercenaries features.

Cain had short-cut blonde hair, with a matching moustache, and piercing blue eyes. _I already hate this guy._

Behind him stood four other similarly armed and equipped mercenaries. One was clean-shaven with light stubble and a dead look to his dull eyes. Another mercenary had wild, unruly hair with a matching beard and moustache. The third mercenary was a woman with long flowing blonde hair and emerald eyes. The fourth mercenary was a rather large and muscular mercenary that sported a buzz-cut, well manicured goatee, and was littered with scars of various shape and sizes.

"You're the mercenaries from earlier, aren't you?" Sygil ignored him, opting for a question of his own.

By now Cain was in his face. "Did you not hear a fucking word I said," growled the man irately.

"Well, are you?"

"Yeah, we are. Now move, or I'll do it for you myself." Cain made motion to grab his sword as a warning.

Sygil, not currently interested in a conflict yet, stepped off of his bar seat to allow Cain to sit down. Cain merely snorted in disgust at him as he strutted by, taking his seat and immediately ordering some ale from the bartender.

The other mercenaries made to follow suit, and had barely taken a seat near Cain when Sygil called out to Cain.

"How much are your services?"

Cain snorted as if he could not believe what he had heard, before craning his neck to face Sygil.

"Depends. Right now, I'm kinda not interested in offering my services. So why don't you – " "-That's not what I asked," warned Sygil, his features narrowed.

"How much… are your services currently."

Cain smirked as he stepped off of the barstool. He strutted up to Sygil until he was in his face.

"Much more than you could afford. Plus, I get extra bonuses as well. What would you offer?"

"I'm not. I was just curious is all."

Cain's features morphed into anger. "Are you done wasting my time cunt, cos' if you don't fuck off real soon, your life is gonna get pretty shitty pretty quickly."

"Then I guess we're done." With that, Sygil started to walk away. The mercenaries were inconsequential, and likely only loyal to money. They could be dealt with as needed. For now though, he might as well check up on Maxmillian to make sure he…

"THE FUCK YOU SAY!" A loud, angered shout rang out from across the room, gaining everybody's attention.

Sygil wanted to facepalm, noting the shout came from the table Maxmillian was currently seated at.

_Why?! Just for once, Maxmillian, be nice! Please!_

He was going to reprimand Maxmillian, but then two men started to brawl at Maxmillian's table.

_What's going on?_ Those thoughts weren't limited to just Sygil, as everyone in the bar seemed to have the same thoughts.

Sygil strode over, quickening his pace, while Maxmillian stood up and addressed Sygil, subtly scooping up the loose coins on the table.

"Sir, I have gathered valuable intel. Would you like me to recount?"

"Belay that. What is going on?" He glanced at the two men fighting, and he ushered Maxmillian away from the fight so they wouldn't get caught in the crossfire.

A crash could be heard as one of the tables was knocked over. Ironically, the mercenaries who were meant to be guarding everyone decided to ignore the fight, leaving the bartender and a few waiters/waitresses to come over and try and pull the fighters apart, who continued to hurl both verbal and physical insult to each-other.

"Unfortunately, the one male I was talking to made reference to the 'Re-Estize army being nothing more than a rabble of peasants who couldn't win a dick-measuring contest even if they fought against a woman'. Apparently male two took offence, as he is a former Re-Estize soldier, and hence this fight occurred." Maxmillian was recalling without investing any emotion, droning on as if a robot.

"And you're sure you didn't say anything that might have pissed one of them off?" Sygil wanted to believe Maxmillian, but he couldn't help but voice his scepticism.

"Positive sir. You stressed being subtle and cooperative to gain information. It is their own fault for being so petty and stupid."

"Hmm, okay. Regardless, what did you get?" Sygil led them both to a quiet booth, where they both sat down. The fight died down as the bartender delivered a haymaker that knocked one of them out, and the second was dragged over and tossed out the door with a scream and a warning not to come back.

They paid them no heed, however, as it no longer concerned them.

"Apparently magic exists here, that's certain," began Maxmillian, leaning over to Sygil. "However, most mages average the Second Tier. Third if their good. And fourth if they are really talented."

"And?" Prompted Sygil, curious.

"Apparently, it's a racial limitation, much like in Yggdrasil."

Sygil frowned. _Did Yggdrasil's magic, and attributes carry over to this world somehow? Since levelling should be impossible in the real world. New or not._

"Furthermore," continued Maxmillian. "There are also numerous races of demihumans which inhabit this world and they often have their own limitations and adaptations of magic. There's not much more that was provided, so I feel further independent research needs to be conducted into the matter."

Sygil hummed thoughtfully, stroking his chin with his thumb. "I see…"

"Did you find anything considering the Augustus' sir?"

Sygil steepled his hands, resting his chin on them. "Not much. They're apparently influential around here, and supposedly helped pull this town out of squalor years back. Now they run a farming business using slave labour. Interestingly, since there's no standing military presence here, it's up to contracted mercenaries. Even then, most of their duties, it would seem, are just policing the slaves."

Maxmillian frowned as he processed what little information he was provided. "Do we know how many mercenaries there are?"

"At this stage, no. But judging by the size of Merigold," he gazed at the patrons in the inn, "I would say there's probably not too many. They need housing, and considering all we've seen is farmland, it's probably safe to say that Beovhan keeps both his slaves and mercenaries close-by. A good defence, quick and easy to house and manage, and quick communications if something goes afoul."

"Are you certain that's the case, sir? I don't mean any disrespect at all," Maxmillian was quick to apologise, but Sygil waved him off. "Relatively. The question is, however, where are the slaves kept, how many of them are there, and how many mercenaries are there?"

"From what I managed to gleam, the slaves are housed in the town somewhere," supplied Maxmillian.

"Hmm. We need more information. And we need it without rousing suspicions," muttered Sygil thoughtfully. Maxmillian cocked his head, unsure of what his Creator was planning. "Sir?"

Sygil locked eyes with Maxmillian, who could feel them burning into him. "The best way to get the information we need is from the source itself. And we have access to three sources right now. One of which will probably be eager to help us…." While Sygil spoke deliberately, he did allow a small smile to form on his face.

"Do you mean the Demi-Human slave from the mansion?"

"Indeed."

Sygil leaned back as he spoke. "We're in a new world, Maxmillian. And while I have lost many advantages as a result, I have also been granted many new ones."

Maxmillian continued to listen with rapt attention. "The use of magic and Yggdrasil abilities in this world can potentially be a game-changer, and if exploited correctly… they can be a deciding one."

By now, Maxmillian was beginning to see what his Creator was starting to imply. However, Sygil continued resolutely, the shadows deepening on his features as he spoke.

"The presence of the flowers you observed in the Augustus' residence is indication that other potential ingredients for our research from Yggdrasil likely do exist here. Such ingredients can be used to create Holy and Unholy remedies alike. Something which I have much invested in for to quickly succeed. It is imperative, that I find and create these remedies as soon as possible."

"Forgive me for my lack of understanding sir, by why are you so keen on creating these remedies anyways?" Maxmillian was genuinely confused. His Creator was a Supreme Being, surely nothing could be capable of harming him. Unless it was so he reverse engineer the applications of such remedies to harm any Holy and Unholy opponents alike.

Sygil looked at the patrons and the surrounding brick and stone walls, illuminated with primitive torches and fire, before allowing the smirk to dissipate from his face, replaced with a more neutral expression.

"I have many enemies, Maxmillian. And while I do not know where they are currently, the threat they pose is very real. As such, it is imperative that we create these cures and ensure their application works. I'm no fool, however, and know such an endeavour of the magnitude before us will take time and resources." It wasn't exactly an answer to the question, but Maxmillian had no choice but to accept it.

"Earlier, you asked me what I planned on doing. Well, simple…" By now, Sygil was boasting a cruel smile as numerous thoughts and plans ran through his mind.

"I'm going to create an empire." He let the words hang in the air. By now, Maxmillian's brows were furrowed as he processed what Sygil had confided in him. Sygil continued.

"First, it will provide me the resources and manpower needed to expedite the creation of the cure I want. Secondly, it will allow me to eventually establish a power structure which I can use to deal with my enemies when the time comes."

"How do you intend to create an Empire though sir? If the maps are indeed accurate, then there are several contending kingdoms which could try to stop us." Maxmillian, while supportive of ensuring his Creator's desires were met, couldn't help but question how Sygil intended to go about achieving his empire with no starting resources.

Sygil chuckled. "Of course they will. If we tried to create one conventionally. However, where there are people, there are several definitive absolutes you can always count on, as evidenced by Mr Augustus. Greed, which fuels crime and war. Something, which I intend to exploit."

Sygil leaned forward, elbow propped on the table and hand suspended under his chin.

"The Augustus family supplies the Re-Estize kingdom with nearly 30% of its annual food supply. They are in a position of considerable control and as such, they have accumulated much wealth. Food is needed to fuel armies, and armies are needed to fight wars and keep citizens in line."

Maxmillian seemed to take the hint. "If we were to take control, we would be in a position of power to mould our own Empire…"

Sygil smiled approvingly. "Exactly."

Maxmillian found himself frowning, though. "How exactly are we going to take control, then? If we kill Beovhan and Clair off, we lose potential influence in the kingdom."

"Not necessarily. As a businessman, one sanctioned by the Re-Estize kingdom to supply its food, he must be under contract. Beovhan will likely have a deed, or some other signatory stating him to be the legal owner of this property. All we need to do is persuade him to hand it over to us. Once we are made the new signatory owners, we will legally own the food supplies, including the labour required to manage and protect the farms."

"But couldn't the Re-Estize simply view the contract as void since we weren't signatories to supplying the kingdom, and hire someone else in?" Maxmillian felt somewhat sceptical.

"It wouldn't matter, since the kingdom wouldn't own the property, we would. Therefore they are dependent on whoever is willing to supply it to them. And since we control 30% of it, we have our foot in the door to influence and leverage certain decisions. They would have to negotiate with us. Especially if we decided to withhold, or better yet, supply to another kingdom or organisation without affiliation to the Re-Estize."

"Couldn't they view that as treason though, giving them the justification to take it by force from us?"

"They would have to have a legitimate reason, as that could scare their other suppliers."

"That could work both ways though, sir. They could scare the suppliers into rebellion, or into submission."

Sygil brushed the concern away.

"Either way, regardless, it's not a risk the kingdom would want to take immediately. We would have enough time to exploit other loopholes and further embed ourselves into their bureaucracy, as well as expand our influence into other sectors and even kingdoms. In the real world, it's not what you know, it's who you know. And we will eventually need connections. The sooner we get more, the better."

"And what of the slaves?"

"That is where our mutual friend Trisha will come in. Trisha was once a proud warrior, and, according to our hosts for tonight, was one of the stronger ones. Now I may be wrong, but in warrior cultures, the strongest are always respected. Which means, our dear slave can help us not only gain more _accurate_ information easily, but also likely help us secure, and establish, a new power structure." By now, Sygil was sporting a predatory smirk.

"If we can gain her loyalty, she would make a better candidate to help acquire the loyalty of the other slaves. Once we take control, we can make them indebted to us by granting them freedom. We'll use Trisha to ensure their loyalty towards us. Loyalty out of gratitude, instead of slavery. If they feel compelled to work for us out of sheer loyalty, we will have an established labour force that can keep the profits rolling in for us. Profits, which can be used to both expand our influence and capabilities, and to bring in the ingredients and supplies needed to create the remedies we need."

"And what if she refuses?"

Sygil smiled darkly. "Trust me. I have my ways…"

"And what about the townspeople and Clair?" Maxmillian was curious as to his Creator's plan.

"They'll be dealt with accordingly. For now, we'll need both Beovhan and Clair alive. At least, until we are in full control. As for the townspeople, that depends on whether they oppose us or not."

Maxmillian stared at Sygil, and even though he tried to maintain a neutral expression, it was difficult to express his awe at the genius of the One and Only Supreme Being, his Creator.

"At the dinner tonight, I want to finalise our information gathering from Beovhan. After that, we can organise an 'appointment' with our dear slave. From there, we can set things in motion."

"And the mercenaries? While I know we can deal with them, we don't know their numbers."

"They're only loyal to coin. Once we take control of the property and the associated wealth, they're loyalty will be bought. They will grant us the necessary army we need. All we need is one or two of the mercenaries to be witness to the transaction of the property as the deed is signed over. After that happens, we will be in direct control of the finances. Beovhan won't be able to stop us then."

"And Clair? What are your plans for her?"

"She helped emplace the seals on the slaves, so she can help release them."

Maxmillian nodded in affirmation of his Creator's plan. What his Creator desired, he got.

Sygil was here to take advantage of the new opportunities that the New World was so ready to provide, and he was going to exploit them to their fullest potential. And if anyone dared to step in his way, he would make certain it would be the last step they would ever take….

* * *

**Author's note:**

**\- Yes, I did use Boris Johnson's greatest insult of mankind ;)**


	11. Born from Blood

**Disclaimer at the start of the first chapter, but again, I do NOT own any of the rights to Overlord and its respective content.**

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**Important Author's note:**

**I have good news, and bad news. I'll start with the bad.**

**The bad: - I will be unable to continue updating this story frequently anymore due to upcoming University studies, and other commitments, which all requires a lot of work and commitment. Therefore, I will always have to place priority of my education over fanfiction. Therefore, you can expect updates to be far and few in between for a while now.**

**The good: - While updates are going to be much slower, this story is most certainly not being abandoned, nor is it being placed on hiatus. I will still be working on it in my spare time if I can help it. But only if it doesn't impact my studies and life negatively. Also, I do have an end goal for this story, so I am less likely to suffer from the infamous writers block hopefully. Hopefully, this means I can more easily work on the story and updates won't take the better part of a year. You'll just have to be patient. I am not giving suggested release dates as I don't want to create false expectations.  
**

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**Concerning reviews: Firstly, thank you to all my readers. Whether you comment, favourite or follower, or just simply click on the story, it brings me joy that there are those amongst you that enjoy my fanfiction. If you've gotten this far, I am assuming I am doing something right to capture your attention, so I hope I can make this story live up to your expectations.**

**To Dan05: Glad you enjoyed the 'realism' as you put it. I do try my best to be authentic with my writing, pacing and plot, and I'm glad it's showing. Hopefully this chapter lives to that expectation.**

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**Suggested rating for this chapter is: M**

**\- Strong, bloody violence**

**\- Sexual violence**

**\- Strong language**

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**Born from Blood**

The remaining time before the dinner was spent at the inn, grabbing more information from random, drunk patrons, and pickpocketing the odd coins. Honestly, it was petty, but they had to start somewhere.

Sygil had a plan, and he had the means to enact it. All he needed was to finish probing for information from Beovhan and Clair and he could begin to enact the first stages.

Currently, both Sygil and Maxmillian were headed back to the mansion to meet up with and have dinner with Beovhan and Clair.

They could see lights emanating from several of the windows in the multi-story building.

"Remember. Be on your best behaviour. We're here as guests for now." While Maxmillian was eager to conform and agree, _in theory_, he could already feel a headache developing. Hopefully things would occur smoothly.

By now, they were at the front door, and Sygil wasted no time in knocking three times.

Clair's muffled voice could be heard from inside, calling them to wait a second as she came over.

The door opened, and the pair were greeted with the sight of Clair, dressed in a more elegant dress this time, complete with red flowery embroidery over a deeper pink dress.

Sygil had to resist frowning at how deceitful she looked, so he opted to brush his disgust aside and entered the mansion politely with Maxmillian in tow.

Clair led them both through the living room to a large and elaborate dining room that easily spanned the full length of the house.

The height of the room extended into the second floor, as evidenced by the balcony running along the inner wall of the dining room lengthwise. As Sygil entered he could make out several bookshelves behind the balcony on the second floor, deep shadows cast by the absence of light.

Four impressive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, running directly above the table, helping to illuminate the room in a faint amber colour. However, the real source of light came directly from the lit fireplace behind the head of the table to the left, casting deep shadows from the high chairs at the long table.

The table itself could seat eight people on each side, plus an additional person at the head and foot of the table.

The table was a dark oak, with four white, cloth placemats and associated cutlery prepared for everyone. A glass of what Sygil presumed to be wine had been prepared for each of the four seats.

Beovhan could be seen seated at the head of the table, a cheerful smile plastered on his face.

"Ah, you made it!" He exclaimed, to which Clair responded cheerfully. "Indeed dear, and just in time too, dinner is just about ready!"

Clair gestured to the two seats opposite of hers for him and Maxmillian to sit at. Sygil was conscious his jacket/suit was rather dirty, and so he took it off to hand on a nearby seat, however Clair cut him off.

"There's no need to set it there. I can get it cleaned for you while we eat. It'll be ready and dry in an hour. Trisha!"

Not two seconds later, the maid practically came running from the room on the right. "Yes mistress?"

Clair gestured to the jacket Sygil was currently holding. "Take Sygil's jacket to Parmela to be washed and dried. Then come back and serve dinner. Be quick about it!"

Trisha bowed, before moving to Sygil to relieve him of his jacket. "Yes mistress."

As she grabbed the jacket, Sygil quietly observed the fresh cut and bruise on her right cheek. As she left, he could hazard a guess as to why she was sporting such an injury.

"Please, sit down. Dinner will be up in a minute," encouraged Clair, interrupting Sygil's thoughts. He did as he was told, as did Maxmillian.

"So, how was your visit in the town?" Beovhan was the first to speak up.

"Enlightening," replied Sygil politely.

"That's good. So I wanted to ask," began Beovhan curiously.

"I overhead you say you were part of the military, and your companion has what looks like a strange type of uniform. Could you tell us what exactly happened for you to be out here?"

"Yes, well," began Sygil, "Maxmillian and a security detail were escorting me, when we were attacked by bandits in the forest. We got separated, and as a result are trying to regroup."

"I thought you said you wound up in the forest and were lost?" Beovhan inquired, confused.

"Yes, well that was after we woke up in the forest," a half-truth. "We were lost, and then we got attacked. And now we are here. Really, there is not much more to add than what was mentioned."

Beovhan seemed to hum and ho, before dropping the matter reluctantly. It was clear from Sygil's tone he didn't want to discuss, and frankly, Sygil didn't exactly plan an alibi out. Especially for what was to come.

"I noticed the flowers in your living room vase. Alarosacea?"

"Yes, actually," Beovhan was quick to respond. "I'm surprised you know its name. Not many people do."

"Actually, it was Maxmillian who told me what it was."

Beovhan quirked an eyebrow. "Oh really now?"

"Yes. I was actually wondering where you got it from?" If he could find out, he might be able to procure more of it, and possibly even further ingredients.

"We actually got it from a trader last month. Surprised it has lived as long as it has. Smells really nice, though," supplied Clair, who was finishing taking her own seat.

"Where is this trader, then?" If Sygil could find the source of the flowers, then perhaps he could acquire his own supply.

"Oh, he's a travelling merchant. Comes around roughly once a month. Say, dear, when abouts should he be here? It's been a while."

Beovhan cleared his voice. "Roughly, I'd say, a couple days now. Been nearly a month."

Sygil catalogued the information. "What exactly does he sell, then?"

"Oh, the rather pricey things, ornaments and other nifty items. Some pretty valuable goods hidden away amongst his stuff. He's a bit expensive, though. Doubt you'd be able to afford what he offers." Upon noticing Sygil's raised eyebrow, Beovhan seemed to realise how offensive that might have sounded and was quick to amend his words.

"Not that we mean you're poor, but it is a fact that his goods tend to sell quite expensively. His items usually cost gold."

So apparently gold was one of the higher currencies. Typical of medieval society. Then again, even modern contemporary society placed much value in authentic gold.

"I'm not too concerned about the price. Moreso just interested in what he might have to offer. What's his name?"

"Oh, his name's Reginold. Rather nice fella," smiled Beovhan fondly.

At that moment, Trisha returned with two large trays containing several plates of warm food.

Clair was quick to supervise where each plate was meant to go, and for who, even though the meals all looked identical.

_It shouldn't really matter where it goes?_ Sygil was somewhat puzzled, but perhaps he was overthinking it. Then again, he still had a gut feeling about Clair and Beovhan.

Trisha left with the two empty trays in hand, before eventually returning and standing to the side of Beovhan, waiting dutifully for another order.

"Well, eat up!" began Beovhan cheerfully, before he and Clair both began to consume their meal.

Both Sygil and Maxmillian shared a subtle glance, suspicious of the meal before them.

It wouldn't surprise him if they had attempted to poison him and Maxmillian, Instead, he decided to open up a new conversation.

"So how many mercenaries do you have working for you? It would surely be expensive to maintain their services?"

Beovhan finished chewing on a piece of meat, before loudly swallowing and gesturing with his fork.

"You'd think it would be, but again, with the free slave labour we have here, it means our costs are considerably cut down. Plus, the mercenaries help contribute to our little economy here, buying our products and services, so it all works out really well in the end. Especially with maids like Trisha here, we can easily make 100 silver a day on the maids services alone sometimes. It all works out really well in the end, actually," Beovhan seemed convinced, and he proceeded to cut into another piece of meat.

Sygil smiled tightly. "So how many mercenaries do you have to help run this place? Surely you can't expect a small handful to manage such a large property with so many slaves and the 'savage tribes' as you put them?"

Beovhan smiled forlornly. "Not as many as you'd think. I actually have hired… 23? Some of the finest in the Kingdom, too! They've worked for me for the past couple of months."

"Only a couple months? But surely you would have had some security or guards before then also, right?"

Beovhan sighed, placing his silverware down. "Unfortunately, I had to rehire some new ones, after the previous lot died. Not exactly pleasant at the time."

"If I may ask, what happened?" Sygil was curious. Was there another threat lurking about? If so, he would rather know now, before it decided to rear its head and attack him.

"Oh, just a bunch of fools, that tried to assault one of my shareholders. Caused a lot of problems, so they had to be removed. Fortunately, I didn't have to worry about that, as they volunteered to deal with the problem at hand. Free of charge, too."

Now, this was interesting.

"Who exactly are your shareholders, then? I thought you just supplied to the Kingdom?"

Beovhan seemed to hesitate, however. "That's… nothing you need to concern yourself over.

"Besides, I can't go telling you all my business secrets." Beovhan threw a small wink at him, changing the mood of the conversation.

_By the time I'm done, I will know it all._

Sygil chuckled lightly. "I suppose not."

Sygil decided to stall and cut into the steak on the plate. He assumed it was steak?

"So, how long have you owned this property? I'm assuming you are the legal owner, sanctioned by the Kingdom, correct?"

"Oh, yes that's true. I've owned it for ten years now. It was originally owned by the Kingdom, but lack of maintenance, and poorly trained and equipped workers meant that it was a liable asset that was costing the kingdom too much money to maintain. It was originally going to be burned down and divvied up between the nobles, but I offered to buy it, and in exchange for keeping more of the profits upon taxation, I would sell only to the King. Some of the other nobles kicked up a fuss, especially considering I was only a merchant at the time. Wealthy enough to just afford buying it. Within three years I turned Merigold into a prosperous little town."

Sygil hummed. _Privatisation. Does explain some things._

"I'm assuming since it's privatised, that explains why there is no active military presence or Kingdom sanctioned security?"

This time, it was Clair that responded with a forlorn sigh. "Well, that's only partly true."

Sygil looked at Clair curiously, but Beovhan answered instead. "What Clair means is, essentially it was the nobles that wanted this land. They either wanted to own it completely, or if not, see it burnt to the ground. However, the King refused. They felt entitled to the land, but I was willing to pay considerable coin, because I could see its potential for a long-term investment. Unlike the nobles. The King was more than willing to accept, after all, gold goes a long way to financing your kingdom, or your pockets. The nobles had no choice but to accept his decision, and they were pretty rank about it."

He took a small sip of wine, before addressing Sygil and Maxmillian with thin lips.

"They managed to convince the King that, since the land was now privately owned, they had no obligation to defend it and waste money on its security and wellbeing."

Sygil managed to fill in some of the blanks. "And since you essentially nearly bankrupted yourself buying it, they figured you would go under in no time due to bandits, the tribes and other financial hardships."

"Yes. Essentially, it was their way of giving me a big 'fuck you' since I spoiled their little self-entitled plans. Especially since I'm not of noble blood." By now, Beovhan was sporting a sour look, before adopting a smirk.

"So imagine their surprise when within the first year I had already established a somewhat competent labour force. All free of course. Those rotten bastards thought I would go bankrupt on just hiring the labour alone. They forgot a little something though. When I bought the property, I also acquired the rights and ownership of Merigold. And I used that to also help generate revenue to support my farming. Once the first shipment reached the capital, they were surprised. None of the produce was spoiled, and it was of considerable quantity. Much higher than even they managed to generate when they owned it originally."

Beovhan let loose a low chuckle. "Oh the looks on their faces when I told them business was up and running, and that the next year's harvest would be even bigger. And of course, it was."

Sygil remained silent, letting Beovhan speak.

"By the second year, I had established a full labour force, gotten the town up and running, and even managed to bring in a couple new residents to help keep the town running. That seemed to piss the nobles off. I then managed to start hiring a full protective detail. 20 mercenaries. Small group, but ex-soldiers and adventurers. Well trained. Easily Gold level and above. By the third year, I had recovered all of my losses, including hiring the mercenaries and helping restore the town. By then, the nobles wanted the land back because of the money I was making. They demanded I hand it back since it was originally government property. Of course I didn't, though. I bought it, and I kept to my end of the deal by supplying only to the King, and therefore I could do as I saw fit. That pissed them off even more. They tried to threaten me into handing it over, hiring criminals to harass me. Of course, they weren't the only ones with connections," he smiled deviously.

"By the fifth year, everything had been sorted out, and we all came to a mutual understanding. They had to begrudgingly accept that I now was both wealthy and powerful, and they couldn't dip their grubby paws into my profits. Now… things have been smooth as glass. They still do piss-all for giving me protection, but if my property were threatened, because of my value in supplying to the King, they would be obligated to send an army to defend it. Of course, since it's privately owned land, however, I would have to fork the bill, and keeping an army on standby costs a pretty coin. So it's only ever if in an emergency. It was one of the mutual understandings we came to."

Sygil absorbed all that was told to him like a sponge. Beovhan had revealed more than he realised.

Much of the dinner was spent with mostly Sygil, and sometimes occasionally Maxmillian, asking questions while trying to avoid consuming the food before them. Mostly trivial things were revealed and discussed.

"So is the property set to be inherited, or sold, when you retire, or what…." Trailed of Sygil, hoping to elicit an answer.

"Actually, we are thinking of leaving it to our child," supplied Clair fondly. Judging by the way she was glancing at and rubbing the top of her noticeable stomach bulge, she was referring to her unborn child.

"So is that your only child?" Asked Sygil with a smile on his face.

"Yes. Beovhan Augustus the Second. I think it has a ring to it!" Proclaimed Beovhan proudly, resulting in a scoff and roll of the eyes from Clair.

"So unoriginal. Besides, we don't know if it is a boy, yet."

"Well, whatever it is, we will grant our child with the best life possible." Beovhan had a loving and fond smile on his face as he spoke, locking eyes with Clair who returned the smile.

_I almost feel bad for what is about to come._ Sygil crushed those thoughts just as quickly as they came, however. Now was not the time for emotional compromise. His life and his sister were at stake.

"So, I hate to be a bother, but you did want to discuss some employment opportunity with Maxmillian and I, and so far we have managed to steer the conversation away from that." Sygil tried to maintain a light tone of voice, not wanting to come off as rude. It was unprofessional, after-all.

"Ah yes," Beovhan cleared his throat before diverting his full attention to Sygil and Maxmillian.

"Now, I know you said you weren't interested earlier, but I implore you to consider what I have to offer."

Sygil had to resist rolling his eyes. _That's just what I asked you._

"I'm always looking to employ people around here, both in the town, and as part of my personal work force. I figured, since you'd be staying here for a while, that you'd appreciate having a job to earn some food and shelter?"

Both Sygil and Maxmillian shared a quick glance.

"I never stated that I was interested in staying here, nor am I looking at working for you or anyone." Sygil narrowed his eyes at Beovhan, who tried to press again.

"But come now! Surely you'd appreciate a good, stable job – " "- Did you not acknowledge the part where I made mention that Maxmillian and I were part of a military detail. Even if I wanted to, we are under no obligation to serve anyone else." That was a lie, but they didn't need to know that.

Beovhan seemed to furrow his brows.

"Hmmpf. Fine. But you should eat up, you haven't had anything! Neither you or your compatriot Maxmillian!"

"We're not exactly hungry…" Began Sygil warily. He still kept getting a bad vibe from the man, and right now, it seemed to intensify. However, before Beovhan could continue, the front door could be heard opening, followed the loud metallic footsteps indicating heavy armour.

"I'm here for her, like you promised. 10 silver, now come with me you dumb animal."

There was no mistaking Cain's voice under the heavy armour as he gestured to Trisha.

Clair seemed to splutter, unimpressed. "Really, Cain?! Now?! Can't you see we're-" "Yeah, I can see you're talking with your husband to…" His voice seemd to trail off as he recognised Maxmillian and Sygil.

"Cain, was it?" Mused Sygil.

"The hell they doin' here?" Gestured Cain to Sygil and Maxmillian tersely.

"We're in the middle of having a conversation," began Beovhan in exasperation. "Why can't you come back later."

Cain waved his arms in protest. "I'm not here to interrupt. Just here to borrow your maid is all. Here, I got the 10 Silver here now," he reached into a pouch and produced some coins, before Clair sighed.

"I suppose it'll be fine. We can get one of the other maids to clean up for dinner until Trisha is available."

"I suppose," relented Beovhan. "At dinner though, Cain? Next time, can you NOT interrupt me during a discussion Cain. Especially at meal-time." His face was pulled taut as he shot a pointed look at Cain, who seemed indifferent. Or not. Sygil couldn't tell with the armour.

"Sure, whatever." Cain spoke without real care behind the words, as if they were part of a boring recital. He barely dropped the coins on the table near Clair when he reached over and roughly grabbed Trisha by her arm to pull her away.

Sygil didn't fail to notice the look of discomfort on her face as he started to drag her to the door way he came in from. He also didn't fail to notice the opportunity before him.

"Actually, Maxmillian and I need to relieve ourselves. Could you be willing to point us where to go, Beovhan?"

"Oh, of course. Cain!"

Cain came to a halt when Beovhan called out to him, seemingly irritated judging by the tightening of his gauntlets.

"Could you lead our guests to where they can relieve themselves. Thank-you."

He didn't even wait for Cain to dispute as Maxmillian and Sygil stood up and walked to where Cain was.

"Fine..." hissed the armoured mercenary in annoyance. "Come with me. Don't get lost on the way back."

"Charming personality," muttered Maxmillian with a roll of his eyes. Sygil couldn't agree more.

As they left the dining room, no-one noticed the frown on Clair's face as Beovhan looked at the untouched plates of food where their guests were seated nought but a moment ago.

* * *

The group of four were standing at the base of a stairwell which led to the second floor. Currently, Cain was pointing down the far end of an adjacent hallway.

"That door leads to an outhouse, which you can use. Now excuse me, but I have things I need to do."

With what Sygil assumed was a contemptuous sneer, Cain hauled the hapless maid up the stairs to somewhere, leaving Sygil and Maxmillian alone in the hallway for several quiet seconds.

"Maxmillian."

"Yes sir?"

"I believe it's time for us to begin acquiring our dear slave's loyalty."

"It is as you wish, sir! What would you have me do, sir?"

"I need you go back to the dinner with Mr and Mrs Augustus, and keep them occupied. Once I am done talking to Trisha, I will come down so we can visit and _discuss_ the terms of an agreement with Beovhan."

Maxmillian couldn't help but allow a savage grin to form on his face, as he knew what his Creator was going to do. He bowed forth to Sygil, placing a hand over where his heart was. "Of course. It is as you desire."

"Good. Stall them, but don't harm them. Yet…." Sygil needed some time to prepare, even if briefly.

Maxmillian stood upright, a resolute expression plastered across his face, before he left Sygil alone and went back to the dining room.

All alone now, all Sygil had to do now, was find where Cain had taken the maid.

Since he had a rough idea of what Cain intended, he knew he was likely looking for a private room. Looking at the stairs, Cain had gone to the second floor. All he needed to do was search for whichever room the two had likely gone to.

Climbing the stairs, he was greeted with a long hallway that extended in both directions, plus a smaller hallway directly in front of him. Pausing, he tried to guess which direction Trisha was taken.

His gut instinct told him it was probably down the right hallway, since it went the furthest.

As he began to leisurely stroll down the hallway, he instinctively tugged on his right glove to tighten it.

Coming to the end of the hallway, he was greeted with several closed doors on both walls opposite each-other.

_"__Just let me go!"_ A muffled feminine voice could be heard behind the far door on his left.

_Guess that resolves the mystery of where Trisha is then…._

Standing in front of the door, he could hear some more muffled speaking. Figuring there was no time like the present, he reached for the door handle, twisted the knob and opened it.

* * *

"Yeah, you fucking bitch! Scream for me!" An audible smack could be heard, and Sygil caught the tail-end of Cain back-handing Trisha across the face.

He was greeted with another rather repulsive sight, though he did not let his disgust show.

Currently, Cain was stripped down entirely naked, rubbing his visible erection into Trisha's dressed stomach as he held her pinned against the wall, desperately trying to undress her.

Judging by her distraught and disgusted look, Sygil could easily piece together what was occurring before him.

Cain somehow didn't notice Sygil enter the dimly lit room, too engrossed in his sexual lust. Trisha, however, shot her eyes to him as he closed the door behind him with an audible click.

"Ah, Trisha. Just the person I was looking for!" Exclaimed Sygil politely.

That seemed to gain Cain's attention, who immediately spun around from his victim to face Sygil with a look of shock on his face.

He sputtered out indignantly, face red with anger. "What the fuck! What the fuck are you doing here?!"

Sygil slowly strode forth to the duo, walking around the bed, and blocking any chance of escape.

"I'd just like to have a word with miss Trisha."

Flicking a wrist, he summoned a Shadow Hound, its smoky silhouette taking shape, with its snarling envisage resting clearly on Cain with a hungry look. Cain's face morphed from indignant surprise into terror, seeing such a supernatural monster being summoned.

"That's not a problem, is it?"

Cain glanced to the side where his sword was resting atop of his armour and haphazardly thrown clothes.

"Don't worry, I'll get to you in a moment," reassured Sygil. "Though, I wouldn't do that if I were you," warned Sygil, seeing what Cain was intending.

Cain realised the situation was not exactly to his advantage, so he released his grip on Trisha who started rubbing her face where she was smacked.

"Fucking leave me alone!" There was no mistaking the fear in his voice.

"Then stay silent. I just want to discuss some things with Trisha, and I'd hate to have to rip out your tongue to keep you quiet for now." Sygil allowed a small smirk to form on his face as Cain's eyes were glowed to the shadow hound that was slowly coming closer, letting loose a low growl.

Sygil diverted his attention back to Trisha, who was currently eyeing both him and the hound with caution.

"Hello Trisha," he began, offering a disarming smile.

"I don't think we've been fully introduced. My name's Sygil Amadeus. Would you mind telling me your full name? Please?" Being polite would go a long way into establishing a hopefully beneficial relationship. Caain's whimpering could be heard.

Currently the shadow hound was directly in front of him, its teeth mere centimetres from him. However, Sygil ignored it all. The hound wouldn't attack him unless provoked to do so.

Trisha remained silent, a wary look in her eyes, so Sygil continued. "Not too talkative? That's alright. I understand you're a little sceptical right now, but before you cement your opinion of me, allow me to at least offer a 'business proposition' for you, and your enslaved brethren."

Trisha still maintained her silence, and only Cain's soft whimpers could be heard. "Get this fucking thing away from me, do you hear!" Cain whisper-shouted. Sygil ignored him, however.

"I want to, and can, give you your freedom back. I can see to it that you are never abused ever again, never made the slave of a selfish monster of a 'master'."

He noted Trisha's dead, yet desperate eyes, were starting to level up with his own.

_Good_. He had caught her attention, so he continued his case, ensuring he spoke gently and softly.

"You, and your fellow slaves, would be free again under me."

"Why should I believe you. All the other humans have lied to us, and done nothing but hurt my sisters and I." For someone with such dead and desperate eyes, there was no mistaking the steely contempt under her voice.

He let his face fall into a more neutral expression. "I make it a professional practice to never lie, and I won't sugar-coat it. Your freedom will cost you. While I can ensure you and your sisters are delivered from slavery and harm, I will expect something in return. Something only you and your sisters can provide."

Trisha's gaze somewhat hardened in disgust. "We're not playthings for you!"

"I can assure you, my intentions are anything but."

He strode over to the adjacent wall where Trisha was and leaned back on it, crossing his arms, never removing his gaze from her.

"I intend on solidifying my own control here, and your current masters are in the way of that. By the time this night is over, I will control all of Beovhan's assets and property, and that would include his slaves. Such as you…. However, that would also leave me with many liabilities," he shot a distasteful glance to the pinned Cain, "and therefore I would have to remove them. And slaves make for unhappy and therefore unreliable employees. I would hate to have to terminate everyone, as that would leave me with nothing." With that, he stepped off from the wall and approached Trisha, who seemed to subconsciously straighten up.

"Of course, if you and your sisters were to pledge your fealty to me, then you would all be under my employ, and therefore my protection. So what say you? I can personally deliver to you and your enslaved sisters your freedom, your safety and provide you protection. You will never have to fear being abused again. No-one will rape you again, hurt you again, try to degrade you. You will have proper homes and housing, clean food and water and be paid for your work without having to worry about being harmed. All I ask for is you and your sisters undying loyalty." He held out his hand for her to clasp.

Trisha seemed to stare at his hand tentatively, before looking up at him with resolution.

"And sell myself out to another human who will lie! I was raised with more honour than that."

He decided to take a gamble. "And Gallheia didn't sell you out?" That seemed to strike a nerve in Trisha as she defensively spat back at him, proving his theory of a connection between the two.

"How dare you! She would never!"

Sygil was just as quick to retort, however. "Then how come you are still a slave for so many years? Where was Gallheia when you and your sisters were killed and captured. Where was she all this time when you and your sisters were held captive? Where was she when you were humiliated and degraded, tortured, beaten and raped?"

He could see each point he made seemed to visibly shake her resolve, as she was forced to contend with the possibility.

"The way I see it, she abandoned you. You and your sisters."

"No," she protested weakly. Sygil didn't care, however, and he continued coldly.

"She never cared about you or your sisters, otherwise she would have attempted to rescue you all."

"That's not true," by now her voice was cracking. She was almost at a breaking point.

"Then why did she leave you all to such a terrible fate?"

By now, he could see several tears beginning to form in her eyes as painful memories esurfaced.

"Because… because we weren't strong enough. We were too weak…." Her voice was now pitiful and warbled.

"You're only weak because you choose to be. Instead of acknowledging your situation and trying to become stronger, you've allowed yourself to wallow in your despair. That is why you are weak. Not because you couldn't win against insurmountable odds. But because you allowed yourself to remain a victim."

By now, she was beginning to cry, though she tried, and failed, to repress her hitched sobs. Was it cruel of him to make her feel this way, especially in the face of all the abuse she had suffered over the years? Conjuring up terrible memories? Perhaps, but it was better this was addressed now than later. Besides, he could use her flood of negative emotions to help guide her into the direction he wanted, and so he pressed on.

"However, where Gallheia sees weakness, I see strength. Despite everything, you have persevered, and survived. It takes strength to continue on with such resolve. So you aren't truly weak. You're just lost."

Sygil pursed his lips as he sighed, lowering his hand before turning to face where Cain was, the shadow-hound growling in his face. He could hear the odd, faintly hitched sob from Trisha.

"I can offer you a chance to feel strong again, freeing you and your enslaved sisters. And considering what I am offering in exchange for so little, I think the price is well worthwhile. However," he adopted a more hardened tone as he strode over to the petrified mercenary.

"I only offer this opportunity once. I suggest you choose wisely, for you might never receive such an opportunity again… especially by the time I am done tonight."

By now he was standing before the mercenary. He slowly turned to face Trisha again, who now looked conflicted.

"So. What will it be?" He opened his arms as if to strike a welcome gesture.

Trisha glanced at him and then back at the mercenary, who decided to brave speaking.

"Do you truly think you will get away with what you are planning?!"

"I already have," shot Sygil with a smirk. "All that matters at this point is what side you take Trisha."

"I… I…" she sounded defeated.

"I know. Perhaps a little incentive, and a show of good faith is needed," suggested Sygil, shooting a glance at the cowering mercenary.

He shot his left hand forth, wrapping it around Cain's windpipe and constricting his airway, before hoisting him off the ground. The hapless mercenary struggled with all of his might, but he was barely able to let loose a gurgle, let alone try to pry the Sygil's vice-like grip.

"I'll give you a choice," he began. "Cain here was going to rape you; abuse you and hurt you. And I know you don't like that at all. So, I'll let you decide his fate."

Trisha's eyes seemed to widen a little bit at this, her full attention on him.

"You can either release him. Or, you can just say the word, and I'll kill him, right here, right now. Or, you can take that sword," he gestured to Cain's sheathed sword resting atop of his armour, "and you can kill him yourself. No matter your choice, I won't stop you. But I think, regardless, you have a right to choose your own destiny. And if you serve beside me, I can grant you that."

He let the words hang in the air, while Cain began to more desperately struggle.

Trisha seemed to remain silent for several agonising and tense seconds, internally contemplating her choices. Was this really a chance to be free again? To help restore the freedom of her sisters? And reclaim her stolen honour?

Looking at Sygil, and then Cain, one last time, she struggled to come to a conclusion. If she wanted her freedom, she would have to take it, but she ultimately didn't know if she could trust Sygil.

Hardening her resolve, she looked Sygil square in the eyes. "And how can I trust you?"

"You can't. It's a risk you're going to have to take." Sygil's words weren't exactly reassuring, but so far, he seemed to be honest in his intentions.

"And what would you do with him?" She gestured to Cain.

"Would you like to find out?" Suggested Sygil playfully, enjoying every moment of Cain's terror.

"Let's see… I promised I would get to you, Cain." Now, Sygil was diverting his focus back onto Cain, who was struggling to breathe by this point.

"Where to begin, where to begin…. I know! Let's start elephant in the room. Rape. Rape, is under no circumstances justifiable. Torture, murder, genocide, war, while all depraved in their own manner, can be moulded to suit a purpose. Rape, though? Unless you want to demoralise your victims, it serves no real purpose. All rape is, is just a sign of an immature individual who fails miserably at self-control, constraint and is solely interested in self-gratification without concern for consequence or ramifications. All it does, is show how stupid and utterly useless you are. And I don't like useless people… Especially, when I am trying to create my own empire." He tightened his grip on Cain's throat, as each passing word become harder and colder.

"And you know what I do to useless people?"

Sygil grinned savagely, while Cain's eyes seemed to bulge with terror.

"I discard them." And with that he released his grip on Cain, shoving him forward with the same arm, whilst his right hand shot over his left shoulder, summoning his sabre. And with a horizontal swing, he cleanly cut through Cain's neck before he could protest.

There wasn't much blood, his severed head resting on his body, teetering briefly before his body toppled over unceremoniously, with his head dropping straight down and landing with a dull thud.

Trisha watched on with shock, surprised when he summoned his own sword.

She watched Cain's head briefly roll on the floor-boards, before glancing back at Sygil who had by now dematerialised his sabre as if he never had it to begin with.

"Well, that takes care of one thing I suppose," commented Sygil off-handed, before facing Trisha again.

"So, what will you do? Will you join me, or are you going to squander your opportunity?"

* * *

Maxmillian couldn't help but allow a small sneer of contempt to mar his face after being subjected to questioning by Mr and Mrs Augustus. While he was ordered not to be directly antagonistic to the couple, he didn't have to like them. And he had plenty not to like about them.

His Creator was sceptical of the meal prepared, and so out of curiosity he had attempted to discern if it was poisoned. Either he lacked a sufficient enough ability to detect poisoning, or they were just that good at hiding it, but he couldn't detect any poison. However, he did run an appraisal on all plates presented. And suffice to say, there was evidence of magical tampering on both his and Sygil's meals, but not on the couples.

He couldn't exactly detect what it was, but there was something. Therefore, he refused to touch the meal, and simply stalled for time until his Creator would return.

And return he did.

"I apologise for taking so long," came the despondent voice of Sygil, who was just now entering the room through the doorway he had exited.

He strode over to the table where Clair was, while Maxmillian stood up and approached Sygil.

"Sir!"

Maxmillian's low voice caught Sygil's attention and he stopped in his tracks until Maxmillian caught up to him, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"You were correct to be suspicious of the meals. I have detected magical tampering with our meals only. Unfortunately, I cannot determine what exactly it is. Are we going to proceed?"

Sygil allowed himself to take a deep, closing his eyes, before opening them.

"Yes," he quietly replied back, gesturing to Beovhan. With that Maxmillian stepped back from Sygil and walked to behind Beovhan, who was currently looking at the duo quizzically.

By now, Sygil was behind Clair.

"So Beovhan, since you own this property, I would be correct in assuming that you signed a deed, or some other legally binding document to prove you have ownership of this land, correct?"

"Well, yes? Might I ask what you are doing, you haven't touched your dinner at all?" Beovhan was acting confused, as was Clair.

Sygil rested a hand on Clair's shoulder. "Oh well, business before pleasure unfortunately." And with that, he summoned his sabre, placing it directly against Clair's throat.

Beovhan's eyes went wide, but Maxmillian had already drawn his own sabre and placed it against his throat, holding him back with a firm grip on the shoulder.

"What are you doing!" exclaimed Beovhan, while Clair shrieked.

"I am conducting some simple business," replied Sygil innocently. "I'd hate for things to get messy, so I suggest you calm down and remain seated."

The couple had no choice but to concede.

"Now then, let's start with a simple question to sate my curiosity. What did you do to our dinner?"

"What are you talking about, we didn't do anything?! Unhand me at ONCE!" Beovhan was roaring in protest.

Sygil frowned, while Maxmillian tightened his sword around his throat. "Then why, when I conducted an appraisal, did I detect magical tampering?" snarled Maxmillian.

Clair's eyes went wide with shock, and Beovhan suddenly glanced furtively at her. The actions failed to go unnoticed by both Maxmillian and Sygil.

When Sygil didn't get a response, he sighed. "At this stage, I suppose it doesn't matter. What does matter, however, is this property, Beovhan."

"What do you want…" spat Beovhan, all pretence of being a kind, cheerful man gone.

"Simple," grinned Sygil. "I want you to sign over the deed for this entire property, surrender all of your assets and wealth to me, and I want Clair to release the seals on the slaves so they are freed."

Beovhan looked at him as if he grew a second head.

"You have got to be joking. On what world would you think I would ever do that?!"

"This one," retorted Sygil sharply. "Now, we're all going to take a trip to your office, where you will draft a new deed signing over all of your property, assets and slaves over to me. We will all sign it, since legitimacy is important after all. From there," he faced Clair, "_you_ will undo the magical seals on the slaves. Failure to do so…" He summoned two of his shadow hounds, their snarling envisage helping to _persuade_ Beovhan to see his point. Fear could make an excellent motivator, after all.

"… will result in a fate far worse than death. Of that, I can guarantee."

Beovhan shot a furious look at Sygil, trying to act brave in the face of such monstrosities.

"You wouldn't dare! You need us alive if you even _hope_ to get what you want!" Beovhan was certain of it, Sygil wouldn't risk killing him or Clair.

Sygil raised an eyebrow in disinterest. "Hmmmm. That's not quite true, though…. I need _you_ alive to sign over the assets. Clair, here though? While killing her would mean the slaves couldn't have their seals undone immediately, it would only be a temporary inconvenience at best." He adopted a cruel smile as he lowered his sabre to rest gently on Clair's rather noticeable stomach bulge.

"And let's not forget about your unborn child. While I would hate to have to kill a child, especially one that's not even born yet, but I'm not averse to it if need be. I would suggest you don't test me, Beovhan."

Clair's breath hitched, though she daren't move for fear of resulting in harming her unborn child. Beovhan, however, looked like he wanted to kill him, but it didn't take long for him to realise the futility of his situation and sigh in defeat. Though, such defeat looked as if it drained him of his very soul as he slumped down at his seat, uncaring of the sword pressed against his throat. And so he whispered in a meagre and pathetic voice.

"I… concede. Just don't hurt them, please."

"So long as you conform." Sygil slowly removed his sabre, gesturing for both Clair and Beovhan to stand up, to which they slowly did, careful so as not to provoke both the sabre wielding men and their supernatural pet hounds.

"Now, Beovhan, if you would be so kind as to lead the way to your office. And remember, no funny business." The warning was clear as day.

Beovhan tightened his fists in frustration, before releasing them. "This way," he gritted out. Sygil allowed a satisfied smile to remain plastered on his face.

* * *

Beovhan's office was cluttered with various books and records. Despite this, however, he still managed to keep it somewhat organised.

A rather large office desk sat in the centre of the room, with two guest chairs sitting in front. Behind the desk were several wooden shelves, each containing stacks of parchment, scrolls and other items to help catalogue and record daily business proceedings and the like. A large, gold-framed painting of some family member hung on the wall to the side, while several candles helped illuminate the room to be much brighter than expected.

Sygil gestured to the two guest seats. "Please, take a seat Clair. Beovhan. Find the deed for this property, and a clean parchment. Don't waste my time."

Clair took a seat uncomfortably as she watched her husband open a drawer to start procuring what Sygil wanted. Meanwhile, the hounds scattered to the sides of the desk.

After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, Beovhan produced both the deed and a clean paper parchment.

"Good," smiled Sygil, walking over to sit behind the desk, while gesturing for Beovhan to take the remaining empty seat, which he did reluctantly.

"Now," began Sygil, leaning forward, whilst Maxmillian kept his sabre wrapped around Clair's throat.

"Let's have a look at your deed, shall we?" And with that he grabbed the deed from Beovhan, taking note of several official wax seals melted on, and began to read.

"**I, King Ramposa III, hereby decree that the property surrounding, and subsequently, the town of Merigold, are to be considered the lawful and rightful possession of Beovhan Juda Augustus. For the exception that you supply all produce harvested solely to the acting Government of the Kingdom of Re-Estize, you are hereby granted full and complete ownership of the town of Merigold, and all surrounding land for a 2 league radius in either direction, reduced taxation on all exports and subsequent profits at a set 15% per annum. As the sole, legal owner of this property, while you are hereby granted certain exemptions, you also acknowledge that you are entirely responsible for said property, and under no circumstances will you be reimbursed, whether due to poor investment choices, unsustainable crops, natural or religious disaster, or invasion.**

**You agree to the bill of sale of 115,000 Gold, while agreeing to the terms provided. **

**Signed: ****_Ramposa III_ B.J. Augustus_** ".

Sygil laid the deed down on the table, looking at Beovhan. "Now, I want you to write exactly what I tell you to, word for word. No exception. I needn't remind you of the penalty for failure to comply?" He shot a glance at Clair.

Begrudgingly, Beovhan had no choice but to accept, so he grabbed a quill on the table, the clean parchment, and placed it in front of him to write.

"Now," began Sygil. "Write after me."

"**I**, **Beovhan Juda Augustus, hereby pass inheritance to my successor, Sygil Amadeus, complete and full ownership of all properties, assets and labour previously and currently owned, including the town of Merigold, as decreed by the Bill of Sale approved by King Ramposa III.**

**All financial, property and labour assets are formally recognised as belonging to Sygil Amadeus, and to do with as he deems appropriate.**

**Signed: ****_**** ."**

Sygil spoke slowly and deliberately to allow for Beovhan to keep up with writing. After several minutes of waiting for Beovhan to finish transcribing, Sygil took the unsigned but otherwise completed new deed from him to read and confirm.

Everything was written exactly as he specified, so he allowed a satisfied smile to creep onto his face.

He gently sat the new deed down besides the old one.

"Now that we have done the first part, we are all going to sign it, and you are going to stamp your seal upon the deed to further legitimise it." It was an order stated as fact.

"You can't be so preposterous so as to assume you can get away with this ridiculous crime you are committing," shot Beovhan.

"Crime you say? Oh my dear friend, this isn't a crime, this is a simple business transaction whereupon you have agreed to transfer all of your assets and property to me as part of an inheritance. And you are going to agree to it, especially if you value you and your wife's life…."

"This farce of a contract would never hold valid under a Court of Nobles! It's obvious to anyone that you have forced us to do this under duress! We have rights within the system, and you will not get away with this!" By now, Beovhan was snarling at him, some spittle flying.

However, the hypocrisy of Beovhan's preaching of rights angered him. "Rights, you say? Like the rights you showed your labour task? Enslaving people? Murdering them? Ripping out their wombs and children while you allow them to repeatedly raped and abused, and force them to slave away to generate you easy profits?! Those kinds of rights?" Sygil's voice was raising with each passing second, revealing more anger.

"Because the way I see it, you are a hypocrite!"

Clair shot a hateful look in direction. "So we should accept you trying to rob us of everything?! Even though you are doing exactly what you claim us to be doing?!"

"Yes. Because unlike you, I haven't lied. My intentions are always honest. Whether they are harmful or not is subjective to perspective, but I live my life knowing full aware that my actions can come back to me the exact same way I delivered them. Because that is the nature of karma. But despite that, at least I do not lie to myself to make myself feel better and more superior.

"No matter the pathway you choose in life, you should be prepared to commit to it with unwavering devotion. Don't dare try to hide behind your choices with false words and lies! You chose to seek personal benefit via exploitation, but now the tables are reversed, you are proving to be no more than a coward! You must accept that, no matter the path you take, it all eventually comes back around. Just like it has now."

He leaned back in the chair slowly, locking eyes with Beovhan. "I know that despite everything, we are all made of sin. We live a life based on sin, so for any of us to preach moral superiority is hypocritical from the get-go.."

Leaning forward, he slid the new deed over to Beovhan and Clair.

"Now. I think it's due time you signed this." The whole time, he had a smug smile plastered on his face.

Beovhan slowly grasped the quill, shooting Sygil a filthy look as he reluctantly began to sign the parchment, before passing it to Clair.

"Contrary to what you might think, young man, this is not valid at all."

"But it is. You wrote it after all, and you have signed it." Clair finished signing it, so Sygil took it back and added his own signature. "Congratulations, and thank you for this wonderful business transaction. Your generosity is unparalleled." He shot a savage grin at Beovhan, just as knock on the door outside the office was heard.

"Ah, right on time," exclaimed Sygil. "Come in!"

The door opened to reveal Trisha alongside two mercenaries.

The mercenaries were both from the bar earlier. One was the woman with blond hair and emerald eyes, while the other was the large, muscular and heavily scarred mercenary sporting the buzz-cut and goatee.

"Please, come in everyone," gestured Sygil. Trisha entered and quickly stood to the side, while the two mercenaries uncertainly entered. That was, until they registered several things. The first was the sword Maxmillian had pressed against Clair's throat. The second was the two smoky shadow hounds sitting either side of the desk. The third was Sygil sitting behind the desk with a smug look on his face.

Instinctively, they both drew their swords, but before they could, the shadow hounds leapt up, ready to attack while Sygil spoke calmly.

"Welcome. Now before we get all jumpy and overreact, I would like to remind everyone that we are currently in a rather curious predicament, where violence is currently ill-advised. Please put away your swords, or you won't receive payment for your services."

The woman mercenary was quick to adopt a defensive stance, ready to defend and attack, while shooting a hard glare at Sygil.

"What are you talking about! Unhand Mr and Mrs Augustus right now!"

Sygil deftly grabbed the freshly signed deed, standing up to proudly hold it for the two mercenaries to see.

"Why, I am referring to the newly signed deed stating me to be the legal owner of this property effective immediately. That means I am now your new employer. So I suggest you lower your weapons, and please! Come see the deed for yourself. Maxmillian, release your sword from Clair. I am sure she knows it's futile to try anything."

Maxmillian did as he was told, and the two mercenaries cautiously strode forth, wary of the newcomers by the desk. The scarred mercenary leaned over to grab the new deed, glancing over it and noticing the signatures.

After both mercenaries finished reading over and confirming its authenticity, the same mercenary handed it back to Sygil. And then he spoke in a deep voice.

"We were hired by Beovhan, therefore our contract is with him. Not you. Now, I suggest you step away from these two, and come quietly with us."

Sygil couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, you fool. I own Beovhan's assets, including your pay. He can't pay you anything, not anymore. Therefore, your 'contract', is null and void."

The mercenary's eyes narrowed, and he spoke again.

"You are an upstart brat. Unless you have a death wish, stand down."

The hounds started to growl and snap their teeth, and Maxmillian placed a firm grip on Clair's shoulder, sabre at the ready.

Sygil wanted to facepalm at the mercenary's idiocy, but refrained from doing so.

"You're a mercenary. Your loyalty is to money only. Not to anyone or anything else."

The mercenaries both readied their swords, and the scarred one spoke again coldly. "We have a contract currently, and you are a threat."

Sygil sighed in exasperation, placing both hands on the table he was leaning over. "And you really want to go this way? Think carefully, because I don't offer second chances to employees."

The mercenary ignored him, and stated, "You're under arrest!"

The words had no sooner left his mouth when a materialised shadow spike erupted from the ground and impaled him from the posterior, running inside through his abdomen and chest and shooting out through his mouth and the bridge of his nose. A loud squelching sound could be heard from the piercing of flesh.

Clair and Beovhan looked on with shock , both of whom were certain they would become free again. Meanwhile, the female mercenary was temporarily stunned and wondering what was going on, until Sygil spoke up disinterestedly.

"Now that's dealt with, I would like to know your thoughts on the matter. Are you soldier of fortune, or a loyalist?" His hard gaze bored into her eyes, testing her. And she knew the answer she should give. She was a mercenary after all.

"I'm a mercenary. Are you looking for my services?" She asked cautiously, hoping that was the right answer. Sygil looked at her satisfactorily. "Excellent. We'll discuss payment and your new contract shortly. For now, though, I want you to spread the word to your fellow mercenaries about your new employer, and have all of the slaves gathered in front of the house in fifteen minutes."

"Of course," she bowed quickly, before practically running out the door, leaving them all alone again.

Sygil allowed his smile to form into a frown. "That was rather lacklustre. Here I was hoping perhaps your mercenaries would prove more interesting, rather than so… mundane."

However, he clapped his hands, switching to a more happy expression.

"Regardless, let's first have a look through your financial records. Need to know what I am paying out for mercenaries and the slaves anyway." And with that, he turned around and began to carefully rummage through some of the paperwork, ignoring the protesting form Beovhan and Clair, eventually finding a stack of documentation relating to financial records.

He quickly hoisted the large, heavy stack onto the table, before rolling the two deeds and placing them in his pant pocket, the top part of the paper protruding out. He didn't want to crease them quite yet, after all.

"Let's see what you have here. Expenses, more expenses. Lodging, rent, food and water, more and more expenses…" He spent the next several minutes quickly skimming through the documents while Maxmillian and the hounds kept the couple at bay, keeping any protesting in check. Finally, Sygil found the document he was looking for. Or rather, it was a small stack of documents bound together.

"Ah, a categorised summary of all expenses, investments and profits on a monthly basis! Let's see what you have." He had an almost child-like excitement in his voice as started reading through the first page.

"Total earnings so far at 3,323,440 Gold." He glanced back up at Beovhan. "That's what you have saved up currently on you? Not bad. Let's see." He started to look through more of the financial records, noting monthly costs and how finances were distributed and to what, alongside variations in profits and losses. What he was looking for, however, was the payments for the mercenaries, alongside an additional costs covered and provided for.

"Ah, here it is! 6 gold per month per mercenary. 23 mercenaries, therefore… 138 gold a month, which equals… 1,656 gold a year. Not bad. Considering two are now dead, that means they can expect a slight pay increase. A fair trade off for switching employers, wouldn't you agree?" The question was rhetorical, but Beovhan answered it anyways.

"Fuck you."

Sygil merely rolled his eyes as he continued.

"Now, what's this? 40,000 Gold to be set aside every six months for undisclosed payments? Interesting. I wonder who to? Mind telling me what that is for, seeing as it is disclosed in here from what I can see?"

However, before he could get any answers, something else caught his eye.

"50 Gold per slave sold. Quantity last month, three?" He quickly looked at Trisha. "I didn't know he sold your sisters?"

However, she was quick to respond.

"He's never sold my sisters. We've always been kept together ever since we were enslaved. He always sells the other ones."

"Other ones?"

Beovhan was quick to hiss in anger. "Quiet you damned bitch!"

The shadow-hound closest to him however snarled at him, moving closer and thus causing him to press back into his chair.

"Actually, I would like to know, seeing as all of your former assets are now mine."

"That's none-" "- He drugs unsuspecting tourists and sells them as slaves," interjected Trisha.

Beovhan's eyes wanted burst from their sockets, and Clair made to stand up, wanting to desperately beat Trisha to a bloody pulp, but Maxmillian roughly held her down in her seat.

"Really now?" responded Sygil with fascination that seemed to only build dread in the pits of both Beovhan and Clair's stomachs.

"So, the magical tampering of our meal was related I assume?" Sygil already knew the answer, however, with everything beginning to click and make sense.

"No!" disputed the captive woman. Sygil just sneered at her.

"Did you really think such a simple trick would work on me. I haven't gotten this far in life by simply trusting people generously to the point that I would accept a meal from an overeager stranger."

However. "You dared to poison the Supreme Being?!" Maxmillian was seething, and before anyone could react, he delivered a fierce smack across Clair's face. She let out a painful yelp and was quick to hold her face, blood dripping from her nose.

"That's enough Maxmillian!" Sygil shot a glare a Maxmillian who was quick to apologise to him.

_I need to deal with him soon. This is getting out of hand._

Right now, though, he had bigger issues to deal with.

"This… this is problematic," he breathed out, pursing his lips. "We'll deal with this matter later, however." He shot a pointed look at Beovhan, before slowly walking around the table, leaving the paperwork lying on the desk.

"Right now, I have an announcement to make, and you're both going to help me with that."

Maxmillian hoisted Clair up, and Beovhan reluctantly followed suit.

"Trisha. Can you do me a small favour and grab my jacket if it is dry please? Then meet me outside."

Sygil then opened the door and began to walk out, with Maxmillian and Clair in tow, and Beovhan reluctantly following.

As Trisha left to go grab Sygil's jacket, Clair glanced over her shoulder to Beovhan, who merely nodded in affirmation.

He wasn't going to surrender his property and assets quite that easily…

* * *

Outside, the group of four were greeted with the sight of 21 armed mercenaries standing watch over more than 40 huddled slaves on the street. The street lamps illuminated everyone, bathing them all in amber light.

As Sygil strode forth, he called out to everyone rather loudly.

"Greetings everyone! My name's Sygil. For those of you wondering, I am now your new employer, as can be proven by this very deed which Mr Augustus both so generously wrote and signed." He held open for all to see the very parchment he had transcribed for him.

"As such, all financial and property assets, as well as conscripted labour, enslaved and hired alike, is now under my control." He observed a mix interested and disgruntled looks amongst the mercenaries, with the same woman mercenary standing in front of a group of mercenaries.

"Now, to first address the mercenaries. Your contractual obligations have been rearranged to the new owner of this property, which is me. That means, Mr Beovhan is unable to pay for your services any longer. Instead, your payment has been defaulted to be my responsibility. While we will discuss the new terms of service now that you are under my employ, I will say, there are several changes which you can anticipate."

A mercenary cut him off, however. "Yeah, for starters, I ain't working for some pish-posh snobby cunt that barely looks 30." Sygil redirected his attention to the mercenary that spoke as he stepped forth.

Like his fellow mercenaries, he was dressed head to toe in armour which concealed his identity, and he wielded a rather large battleaxe strapped to his back.

"I was hired by Mr Augustus, not you, so you can shove your proposition up your fucking ass!"

Sygil chuckled. "That is fine. If you wish to leave, I'd much prefer so than deal with the headache of a loyalist. Though be warned, if you try to stop me, it won't end well…."

Sygil tore his gaze from the mercenary and glazed over everyone else. "Regardless, for those who wish to earn substantial money, I am looking to contract your services. And that includes the now former slaves."

That seemed to garner some murmurs, though Sygil continued.

"For those of you enslaved, I am offering you your freedom, safety and protection, in exchange for loyalty which will be rewarded. You will be paid for your services" – "This is preposterous!"

Another mercenary interrupted him this time. "Why should we listen to you? Who the fuck are you anyway?"

"Yeah, for starters, these animals should be lucky to be kept alive, and now you want to free them?! Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

Another mercenary began to speak up. "Who the fuck put you in charge."

"I am in charge because I am hiring your services, and only I can currently pay you since I am the legal owner of all of Beovhan's property and assets, including his financial. So unless you'd fancy losing your paycheck, I suggest you listen." Sygil narrowed his eyes, his voice hardening.

"And the slaves are to be freed, because that is what I said so." All of the slaves were looking at him with curiosity. He noted that they were all female, adorning the same animal features as from Gallheia's tribe.

He could hear footsteps from behind, and turning his head, he was greeted with Trisha arriving with his jacket.

"Ah, thank you," he relieved her of his jacket, placing it on and buttoning it up. It was mostly dry, though a couple parts were mildly damp, but he paid it no heed.

"Now, for those true mercenaries amongst you who are willing to take on a new contract with higher pay, I suggest you strongly consider whether or not you'd serve someone with no money anymore, or someone who can offer you better opportunity and put your services to real use. What will it be?"

Some of the mercenaries began to murmur and talk amongst themselves. They had just recently been informed that Sygil had legally taken control of Beovhan's assets and was now technically in control of the finances. However, there was some discontent. He was no more than a bandit to some, who had just taken everything though thievery and brute force. Besides, their contract was technically to Beovhan, not him.

"Now Clair," began Sygil redirecting his attention to the pregnant woman. "I made a promise to Trisha, and by extent to her enslaved sisters."

That caught the attention of many of the slaves and some of the mercenaries.

"I want you to undo he magical seals on the slaves, starting with Trisha."

At first, Clair didn't respond, but then, she slowly started to chuckle. "He… he…. Hehe… hehehe!"

Sygil couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at her antics as she began to madly laugh.

"And why should I listen to you?!"

At that, both Sygil and Maxmillian's eyes narrowed.

"These slaves are mine and my husband's property. Not yours. And the same goes for the mercenaries. We hired them, not you!"

Beovhan was the next to step up and speak confidently.

"Exactly! You might think just because you have a piece of paper you own everything, but the truth of the matter is, the real world isn't so fair. I paid for these mercenaries, so they are loyal to me!" There was a fresh fire in his eyes, and several of the mercenaries seemed to become rather motivated at that, beginning to brandish some of their weapons.

Clair wheeled on Sygil and spat in his face. "Precisely!" Sygil instinctively waved a placating hand to prevent Maxmillian from going ballistic.

"I put those seals on those miserable savages to keep them in check for a reason. They are designed to be nearly impossible to remove! Besides," she placed a hand on her hip arrogantly. "Even if they could be removed, I don't want to. You can't force _me_ to do anything. Any of us." By now, she was sporting a smirk of her own.

Several of the mercenaries stepped forth with their weapons, about five counted Sygil.

Trisha cautiously stepped back a little, while Beovhan moved slightly behind Sygil, who raised a finger as if to lecture.

"First, let's make something clear. They are mercenaries, not your own personal royal guard. Their true loyalties are, and always will lie, to money. Which is something only _I_ now possess."

Clair raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Secondly, that piece of paper proves to the whole world that I now own this property and all of its assets. Whether you like it or not. And thirdly, if you can build something, then you can most certainly destroy it."

His eyes bore straight into her very own. "You put the seals on them, you can remove them. And whether you like it or not, you will remove them."

Beovhan's chuckling suddenly rang through the air as the same five mercenaries started to walk closer weapons brandished.

"That's a good one! However, I think we've all had enough of this charade. If you surrender, then perhaps your fate might be more lenient." There was no mistaking the confidence behind Beovhan's words.

Sygil paid them no heed, however, focusing his attention on the five mercenaries that beginning to form a semi-circle around him and Maxmillian.

"So, are you five loyalists then? More loyal to Beovhan than to coin?"

Most of the mercenaries where standing back, either out of curiosity, a change of heart, or the belief that this fiasco was about to come to a close.

"Oh we're loyal to that. It's just we prefer people we know that can pay us, and I doubt you can kid," came the muffled voice of an older mercenary wielding a double-handed longsword.

"I see then, so you've made your choice then. That's unfortunate." Sygil's voice almost sounded sad as looked slightly downcast. And then he looked back up coldly, with a voice of steel to match.

"Kill them."

Before anyone could contemplate what was said, the shadows around the five suddenly came to life.

Several predatory roars could be heard as three smoky silhouettes charged from the shadows, rapidly taking on the form of shadow-hounds.

Before the mercenaries could react, the hounds were upon, and the onslaught began. Or rather, the one-sided slaughter.

One mercenary flew backwards in an explosion of blood, as if a truck had rammed him full speed, spraying his blood far out into the street.

Another mercenary was savagely ripped in half, spilling blood and entrails everywhere with a scream, his armour doing nothing to protect him.

The other mercenaries fared no better, unable to attack or defend themselves, instead victims of a mindless massacre that was rigged from the start.

Everyone watched with a mixture of shock and horror. No-one could have predicted this, yet it was happening before their very eyes.

The mercenaries to the side were somewhat grateful that they weren't caught in the onslaught, as the shadow-hounds seemed only interested in those five mercenaries. The slaves only stared in dull surprise, though some were secretly glad to see the mercenaries brutally killed.

The screams quickly died down, with the hounds now busy just ripping apart the remains of the five bodies, turning the street into a stained crimson colour.

"Now that the loyalists are gone, let's –" Sygil didn't get to finish his speech when suddenly Beovhan produced a dagger from within his clothes, swinging overhead for a fatal backstab. As he did that, Clair suddenly ducked down and twisted to face Maxmillian, and with one word, cast her spell.

"[Fireball]".

Maxmillian's reactions were just as fast however, and before Beovhan could bring his stab down, he swung his sabre upwards fast and hard, slicing off Beovhan's knife-hand, sending a small spray of blood shooting up into the air like a small, temporary geyser. However, he was left vulnerable to the Fireball that suddenly engulfed him, covering him completely in flames.

By that point, some of the remaining mercenaries started to hesitantly reach for their weapons, unsure of whether to intervene at this stage or not. Sygil, however, was on Clair like a hawk.

With a single swift motion, he swept her legs from under, and as she fell, he shot his hand around her throat and roughly hoisted her into the air.

The flames on and around Maxmillian died down, and to everyone's surprise, he was unharmed. Even his clothes were unsinged.

He delivered a swift kick to Beovhan, sending him toppling over as he clutched his bloody stump, wailing in pain.

"Such a nuisance," gritted Sygil absentmindedly to himself, before roughly throwing Clair to the ground.

As she hit the ground, she noticed Maxmillian was unhurt and now standing over her, his sabre levelled at her throat.

"How… how are you still alive?!" She croaked, her throat sore from Sygil's vice-like grip.

"Did you really think such a weak spell would have any effect on me or my Creator? You foolish savage." There was no mistaking the contempt behind Maxmillian's words.

Sygil growled at Clair. "I warned you not to try anything, and yet you didn't want to listen."

By now, Clair was afraid. And none of the mercenaries were keen to intervene with the shadow-hound spacing hungrily between them and Clair.

"I gave you chance. Both of you. Yet, you didn't want to conform. Admirable, but foolish." He glanced at Trisha, who seemed somewhat jumpy when he called her name.

"Trisha. Come here please. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." He tried to at least reassure her as she tentatively stepped forth.

He returned his focus back to Clair. "I want you to remove the seal on the slaves, starting with Trisha."

He turned around and began to walk where a whimpering Beovhan was.

"But, I can't! Even if I wanted to, the seals are designed to be nearly impossible to remove. It would take too long," she protested weakly.

Sygil roughly hauled Beovhan up, who struggled to break away from his iron grip.

"Then allow me to give you some motivation." With those words, he summoned his sabre, and before anyone could react, he thrust it deep into Beovhan's stomach, who let out a gurgle in pain. Clair couldn't help herself, she screamed in horror.

"BEOVHAN!"

Sygil let him drop down and curl into a ball, weakly clutching both his bloody stump of a hand and perforated stomach that was oozing blood.

"Like you said Beovhan. Life sometimes isn't fair." There was no remorse in his voice as he flicked the blood off of his sabre.

Clair tried to stand to rush to her husband, but a gesture from Sygil and Maxmillian roughly held her back.

Sygil slowly strode to her, dematerialising his sabre.

"I know you can use healing magic to treat him. And he'll need it, because your husband is going to die soon. Stomach injuries are some of the worst and most painful," he began analytically, ignoring Clair's distress.

"With each passing moment, more of his gastric acid is leaking into his body, burning it and causing unimaginable pain."

"Please," she pleased, her face becoming a ruined mixture of tears, snot and blood from earlier. "Please, let me help him!"

Syigl crouched down to her. "Well, you can. After you release the seal from Trisha. After she is completely freed. Then, you may go heal your husband."

She stared at him with tears in her eyes, wretched sobbing coming through. "But I can't. It's too hard to! Please! Just let me…." She choked on her own words, and Sygil stood up, staring at her devoid of emotion.

"Then consider this good motivation to succeed. And you better hurry too. He might not last long enough if you dawdle along."

Clair's sobbing could be heard, alongside Beovhan's moaning. The commotion had resulted in a few townspeople coming out to investigate, only to be shocked or disturbed at the carnage littering the street.

Some of the mercenaries had begun to quietly chatter amongst themselves, and were unsure of what to do when Sygil stepped up to where the slaves where, looking at the mercenaries slowly, before his eyes settled on the woman mercenary from early.

Slowly rubbing his hands, he decided to break the relative silence.

"So. About that proposition earlier. Who's looking for some work?"


	12. Foundations (Part 1)

**Disclaimer at the start of the first chapter, but again, I do NOT own any of the rights to overlord and its respective content.**

* * *

**Author's note is at the bottom of the chapter.**

* * *

**Suggested rating for this chapter is M:**

**\- some language**

* * *

The sounds of agonised moaning and groaning were all that could be heard as everyone stared at the scene before them in complete shock.

The mercenaries were broken out of their stupor by Sygil as he called out to them.

"So, before we get started, do any of you have further objections?" He was watching them intently, and after glancing at the shadows hounds that were growling in their direction, the mercenaries seemed to realise their situation.

The woman mercenary from before slowly stepped forth, acting as a representative on behalf of all the other mercenaries.

"After… after careful consideration, I think we can agree that a new contract can be established to work with you." She chose her words carefully, wary of Sygil who had brute-forced his way into a position of authority.

Sygil scrutinised her intently for several intense seconds, before cracking a wry smile.

"That sounds excellent. Might I get your name please?"

She didn't let his apparent politeness deceive her into thinking it was safe. Regardless, she answered cautiously.

"Alizia. Alizia Grenevaulch."

Sygil locked his eyes with hers. "Well, miss Grenevaulch, I would like to formally congratulate you in becoming the new Head of the Mercenary Peacekeeping Taskforce now established in protecting my vested interests of the town of Merigold."

She widened her eyes slightly, and some of the other mercenaries seemed slightly confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"To put in lamen's terms, you are now in charge of the mercenaries here. They will now all respond directly to you, and you will in turn respond directly to me." Sygil's confident smile only grew.

"Unless, of course, you feel you are not up to it? In which case I can arrange for a suitable replacement, but I'd rather not waste time right now."

Alizia did not like the undertone with which Sygil spoke, so she decided it was probably for the best to comply. For now.

"Of course, Sir Amadeus."

"Good. Now, I trust you can manage everyone for a couple hours while I go sort out some paperwork and other financial details. I will call you in to discuss a new proper contract and payment once I have finished organising everything. Is this acceptable?"

It wasn't a question so much as it was Sygil's decision veiled as a formality, and nearly everyone present could deduce as much. As expected, no one was willing to contest his decision.

"Excellent. While I get things organised in the meantime, I expect you and the mercenaries to continue your regular duties and make sure Clair here," he gestured to the despairing woman, "undoes the seal on Trisha first before she is allowed to heal her husband. Afterwards, you are to supervise her releasing the seals on all of the remaining slaves. Do I make myself clear?"

Alizia resisted the urge to swallow. "Crystal."

"Good. Then I will leave you to it. Oh, and I recommend you send two of your mercenaries to clean up the mess Cain left behind on the second floor. He kinda lost his head during our talk…"

There was something more ominous about the way that was phrased, but she tried her best to ignore it.

Without a further glance, Sygil casually walked back inside the mansion with Maxmillian on his heels, leaving a host of uncertain mercenaries and slaves behind.

As Sygil began to step inside, several more shadow hounds formed from the darkness outside and began to predatorily stalk and patrol around the slaves and mercenaries, leaving everyone uneasy.

* * *

Sygil entered back into Beovhan's – no, _his_, office. The stacks of paperwork from earlier sat undisturbed.

Sygil blew a breath upwards, slightly disturbing his hair. "Well, no time like the present. Let's get this sorted out quickly Maxmillian."

"Yes sir."

Sygil approached the seat behind the desk, sitting down abruptly.

"Go through the other stacks of paper and try to find out anything relating to Beovhan's business. I want to know every little detail of his financial records, and what operations he was conducting here."

Maxmillian snapped to attention. "Right away sir!"

* * *

The next several hours were spent meticulously combing through all of Beovhan's documents, and with the two of them working together, they were able to move at a considerable pace.

Most of the documents were self-explanatory and covered the basic financial, property and labour filings on a weekly basis, much of which had been skimmed through earlier with the properties predecessors. However, there were a sparse few documents further detailing other business ventures conducted by Beovhan, _not_ related to farming.

Sygil held a gloved thumb under his chin as he commented idly. "Hmmm, interesting."

Maxmillian glanced over at his Creator. "Pardon, sir?"

Sygil leaned back in his chair as he stroked his chin.

"Some of the financial workings here do not add up."

"Perhaps we are missing a couple more documents, then sir?"

"No. All financial summaries are usually kept together. This isn't poor bookkeeping so much as it is a deliberate attempt to hide something. Albeit, a rather poor job seeing as the paperwork is all together here, the fool.

"It would seem Mr. Beovhan has been running a couple additional business ventures, and hasn't catalogued it in his main financial records, so as to avoid tax, apparently."

"Pardon me, sir, but how does this pertain to us. We can just continue to avoid declaring the additional money accumulated and use it accordingly without anyone being the wiser."

Sygil snorted in amusement. "A one-time occurrence, perhaps, but this is a steady profit he is making, and there appears to be no further information pertaining to costs associated with this. Someone is buying something from Beovhan, and he isn't declaring it. He likely has a contract, or mutual business exchange. And considering how he has attempted to keep it under wraps by avoiding declaring it, it is likely something he wants others to avoid officially knowing about."

Maxmillian was quick to clue in and suggest something. "Perhaps it is the slave trade that was mentioned earlier?"

"The one Beovhan attempted to drug and sell us in? Most likely."

Maxmillian felt a snarl form on his face as he spat with disdain. "Then why don't we extract some information from Beovhan and then deal with both bastards responsible for daring to conceive trafficking you, sir!"

"Patience, Maxmillian. Revenge is not a necessity for us, even granted the circumstances." Sygil was obviously in a cheerful mood, a dark smile forming on his face as he stared off into space.

"Besides, there is a potential silver lining to all of this. By attempting to ransom us, Beovhan has unwittingly provided us with exactly what we need… connections."

"I fail to see the necessity sir…"

"Beovhan hasn't declared any slave trafficking on his main financial records, therefore, he is likely selling to a third party. Most likely, a _criminal_ third party. And criminals have connections in the underworld that will allow us to remain above-board with the ruling governments."

Maxmillian still didn't entirely understand the significance that some petty slavers could offer to his glorious creator. Sygil, upon seeing his confusion, further elaborated.

"The actual buyers, the slavers, are of little consequence to us, but they are likely to be connected with other third parties and organisations. _Those_ third parties are of real interest to me, as they will likely be in positions of actual political influence."

Maxmillian felt himself stare at Sygil in slow understanding.

Sygil smiled sagely at Maxmillian once he finally grasped what he was implying.

"Of course, I'm not so foolish as to think that is guaranteed. After all, they could be just small-time slavers or random purchasers that Beovhan has been selling to. In which case, we would need to take a different approach." Maxmillian nodded his head slowly.

Sygil, however, felt a frown begin to form on his face after a couple seconds of contemplation.

"There is a slight problem, however. The mercenaries."

"You are doubtful of their loyalty when they have a greater interest in coin."

Maxmillian wasn't dumb, that's for sure. It made Sygil somewhat relieved that he had someone reliable to depend on then.

"Yes. Precisely that. While we are in the middle of acquiescing loyal workers to help begin establishing the foundations of an empire, we need a loyal army, not a drabble of mercenaries that can go turncoat on us simply when a bigger fish arrives. And that brings up a rather annoying aspect; we have no real standing army to help consolidate nor defend our assets, only temporary sellswords."

"They are only temporarily reliable at best, so you want to establish a more skilful and loyal army," summarised Maxmillian succinctly, ever so direct.

"Exactly. However, we first need to have the means to fund and create our army, as well as equip it. And that is something we will have a more challenging time to do." Sygil had a forlorn look in his eyes as he spoke.

"So why not use your Ring of Creation to create some NPCs to do so for you; allowing us to carry out your will while you just plan ahead."

Sygil stared at Maxmillian tensely for several seconds, looking at him as if he grew a second head, and for a moment, Maxmillian began to wonder if he had overstepped his boundaries as a loyal NPC by daring to suggest something of such magnitude and obviousness to his creator.

However, no such retribution came, and after several seconds, Sygil cracked a grin, chuckling.

"Of course, Maxmillian. You're right! All I need is to create some NPCs using the ring, and I can equip them with the necessary stats and levels to bypass any racial and build limitations and restrictions imposed on me. I'd have a more diverse and effective workforce, and could leave some of the more menial labour tasks to the slaves and residents here. You're a genius Maxmillian!"

"You give me far too much credit for your brilliance. Surely you were already thinking of doing this anyways, sir."

Sygil was about to dismiss Maxmillian's deflection of credit, but other thoughts interrupted him.

_Wait, don't I already have another NPC created? Hans…. Wait, is that how I summoned Maxmillian, through the ring? If so, then I should be able to summon Hans. More loyal people under me means I'll have a much better and effective time in creating my empire._

Sygil felt around in his pocket, finally feeling the ring, though he was unable to fully recognise its texture due to his glove, but that was beside the point. The ring was still there.

Pulling it out, he slowly examined it, before putting it on his left index finger, over the glove, making for a tight fit.

_So how does this work now, do I wave it to create a menu like in Yggdrasil, or do I just imagine something like Hans appearing?_

He gave a slight flourish of his left hand, hoping to activate the ring whilst imagining Hans.

_Perhaps it doesn't work that way?_

He barely had time to process any other viable alternatives, when a foreign voice rang out in the room suddenly.

"Hans Gruber, reporting for duty sir!"

Sygil's head shot up in the direction of the voice.

Standing before him in front of his desk was Hans, completely adorned in an identical uniform to Maxmillian, though his facial features were younger and much less harsh.

Hans' voice sounded rather young, maybe early to mid-twenties, and he had an alluring German accent that portrayed friendliness.

Maxmillian didn't flinch at his comrades sudden apparition, nor did he make any move to draw his weapon, instead shooting a brief cursory glance over to his fellow NPC before returning his attention back to Sygil.

Sygil stared at Hans curiously, trying to suppress his surprise at how easily he was summoned.

_Well that was much easier than I anticipated_.

Still, he needed to move on, and there was no time quite like the present, so without further ado, he proceeded.

"Hans." The aforementioned NPC stood more erect and at attention than before somehow, but he paid no heed to it.

"Can you provide me a list of all of your Creative Functions and Summons?"

"Yes sir! My current stats and levelling allow me to oversee improved production and manufacture of weaponry up to the modern era, as well as assume complete control of any units placed under my command, including summoning them to fulfil any assigned tasks. Unfortunately, I am currently incapable of creating my own summons, and rely on you to place units under my complete command. Sir!"

Sygil frowned, placing a thumb under his chin, before turning to Maxmillian. "And what about you? Do you have any Creative Functions or Summons?"

"I possess many of the Creative Functions as Hans, sir, but due to my Commander and Overseer attributes, I can do so much more effectively and on a larger scale with less drawbacks and penalties. I am capable of summoning any allied units that you create sir, and can summon my own summons sir, but they currently do not exist yet as they have not been created. A significant resource contribution would be required to create any compatible summons for myself to summon sir, and since none of this has been currently achieved, I am therefore unable to do so currently, sir!"

Both of the uniformed NPCs stood at attention, watching their Creator's actions intently as he sat in deep contemplation.

_So they're capable of creating and controlling to an extent, but that requires a resource investment. In other words, we currently have no reliable, nor loyal, standing army or workforce. Only contracted mercenaries and hopefully indebted slaves._

There were also the townspeople, but due to their lacklustre population and atypical human nature, he doubted their overall reliability for the long term.

_Then again, I only need outside help for the short term._

That still left the dilemma of how he intended to acquire his own personal army and workforce.

Glancing at the two NPCs, he pondered on the possibilities.

_They can't create an army directly, not without sufficient resources, but maybe there might be a way to bypass that._ After all, he lived a life of exploiting loopholes to his advantage. And everything could be manipulated and exploited. It was only natural that there was a way he could find to do so.

He directed a hardened gaze at both of his subordinates.

"I need an army. One that is loyal solely to me, and highly effective. The mercenaries will only remain loyal for so long, and I am doubtful of their skills and abilities in the long-term. Inevitably, sooner rather than later, we will need to amass an army that is loyal strictly to me. However, that will be difficult and take a long time, unfortunately."

A bitter frown found itself slowly forming on his face with each word, and when he was done, Hans shot him a quizzical glance.

"Forgive me for asking sir, but why not just create your own army from the ground up, much like you created us, sir?"

Sygil briefly entertained the thought, but was quick to dismiss it.

"While your suggestion has merit, I require a significant amount of resources and time to craft even one individual, and the Ring is insufficient on its own."

Hans gaze lowered as he frowned at the information.

"Not to mention the mana and XP points that are required…." Sygil trailed off as he mentioned XP and mana.

_This world isn't Yggdrasil or a game anymore, so maybe I don't need those points at all? _

He filed away the thoughts for later testing and reference in his mind, when suddenly Maxmillian spoke up.

"Perhaps you can't create an army individually, but why not instead create another NPC that could manufacture an army of summons instead?"

Now, Sygil was intrigued at _that_ idea. Even Hans' expression looked thoughtful at that suggestion.

A small smile began to form on Sygil's face as he stroked his chin with his forefinger.

"Perhaps…. I suppose it would solve the XP requirement for a full-scale army. However, summons require mana to be used, if I'm correct. Additionally, only the summoner can store and unleash them, which means so long as the original summoner is incapacitated, an army would effectively be rendered null and void."

_From one dilemma to another…._

An army of summons could be compromised, but maybe he didn't need summons. The idea of an NPC effectively manufacturing soldiers for him would save him time and potentially mana and XP. However, he would still need resources. And he didn't want to be so cheap as to equip his future army with only primitive wooden spears and rocks. No, he wanted to progress his army straight to the modern age of Earth at the minimum, in terms of technology.

"Hmm. Perhaps… if I created an NPC with manufacturing capabilities to produce individual soldiers instead…." He looked up to properly address his two NPCs with this train of thought in mind.

"Are there any specific racial classes or types of NPCs that would be able to effectively create soldiers and help progress us technologically?"

He was beginning to think broader now. He didn't just want an army, he wanted to ensure he would be top-dog of this world. And the certainty and robust nature of technology could provide that, much more reliably so than magic he wasn't entirely familiar or proficient with.

Both Maxmillian and Hans began to ponder a range of options.

"Perhaps dwarves? They usually have superior creativity elements compared to most other races?" Hans barely finished when Maxmillian interjected angrily, his face scrunched up.

"You would dare suggest that a filthy demi-human race would produce greater ingenuity than a pure human?!"

Sygil was quick to interject.

"I care little for race or creed so long as it benefits me. However, I need something that can expand currently existing infrastructure and provide technological advancements and help manufacture an army. Something that is resilient, efficacious and able to work quickly." He looked Hans directly in the eyes.

"Would dwarves indeed meet these requirements?"

Hans seemed to hesitate, albeit briefly. "They… are an option. There could be more suitable choices, however, sir."

Sygil merely leaned back into his seat, still holding his chin.

Silence permeated the room as everyone began to ponder over the current situation.

Finally, after some deliberation, Maxmillian spoke up.

"What about an automaton, sir?"

Sygil waved his hand, gesturing him to continue.

"An automaton would be technologically equipped to provide both accurate and precise analytical data, as well as be capable of developing technology to meet your standards, sir. Not to mention, due to its robust racial characteristics, it would be capable of easily defending your assets provided it was sufficiently levelled up."

By now, Sygil's interest was piqued, and he began to fill in the gaps.

"An automaton would be able to independently utilise natural and magical resources to create an army and advance our current base of operations much further. Not to mention the reliability due to computer generated data, providing a great deal of efficiency in any projects."

As he laid his hands on the table, he could feel a satisfied smile form on his face. "I like it."

However, a cold realisation came across his mind.

"Unfortunately, to create one, I need to have the appropriate racial classes and requirements, as well as starting materials and resources."

"This settlement should have sufficient starting resources to scrounge up for an automaton, and from there, improvements can be added as we acquire more resources, sir," added Maxmillian.

_This could work out even better than I originally anticipated._

Sygil nodded his head slowly in concurrence; the idea did truly appeal to him. If it would work, that is.

Only one way to find out, though.

"I'll have to try it, then. If it does indeed work, the boon to my empire would be phenomenal in helping to jumpstart it. It would save us much time. Still," he trailed off ruefully. "It is something that will have to be done at a later time. And that is if it even works at all."

The two NPCs nodded in affirmation and understanding. "Of course, sir."

"Still… that doesn't solve our other current situation. The one concerning our base of operations and the town of Merigold," he clarified upon seeing the looks his two subordinates were giving him.

"First thing on the agenda is to secure our local mercenaries loyalty. A pay-rise above their standard should help to alleviate any concerns they might have. We can use the income coming from the deceased mercenaries as compensation so we don't really pay any more, instead they just get their deceased compatriot's share." It was important he secured their loyalty, even if temporarily. This would be the quickest and easiest way. Besides, he planned to recoup any funds lost, so it wasn't exactly a bad investment.

"If that is what you wish, sir, it shall be done."

"It is. Now, there were originally 23, at 6 gold per month. Cain is dead, and so is the burly asshole from earlier," the body was still lying on the floor with blood pooled around it. _Should get that cleaned up._ "And… five guys from outside. So all up that's seven mercenaries dead. At six gold per month…" he ran some mental calculations in his head, before coming up with a satisfactory number that didn't exceed what Beovhan was previously paying, but was still a significant pay increase to keep them satisfied. "Say, an increase in pay to about 8 gold a month? Seems fair, and will keep them content for now."

He was mostly talking to himself at this point, but also wasn't hearing any objections from Maxmillian or Hans.

"Next order of business is the distribution of labour and duties amongst the townsfolk and the slaves."

Maxmillian was quick to have some input.

"Might I suggest reassigning the townsfolk to more relevant labour duties, sir?"

"Already ahead of you, Maxmillian." Sygil already plans in motion in his head to begin expanding solidifying his control and influence.

"Most of the townsfolk laze about doing mere retail for travellers, with a couple skilled tradesmen amongst them. That needs to change. Once we finalise the details and a new contract with the mercenaries, I'll get you to begin reassigning the townsfolk to mining and industrial production. Once the slaves are freed, I'll assign them accordingly to continue working on the crops or maybe use their enhanced strength for mining. Remember, we still need to turn a profit and keep our new business fully operational."

This time, Hans spoke up. "And what about those that refuse, or worse, become dissidents to your rule?"

Sygil didn't even hesitate. "Then they're a liability. Re-educate them on their new duties, and if they still fail to comply, kill them. However, leave the slaves be, as they can provide a greater range of uses, so flexibility and discretion are needed there. I will deal with them personally. Just make sure the residents understand their new duties."

He didn't fail to observe the sadistic grin that came across Maxmillian's face. "Of course sir, you can leave it to me."

Hans shot a curious cursory glance at Maxmillian, but otherwise ignored him.

"Now would also be a good time to start collecting all of the minerals, metals, ores and other valuable resources in this town. If I am to create an automaton, I will need starting materials at my disposal. Hans, see to it that all such materials are relinquished over to us in the mansion."

Hans bowed his head slightly. "Of course, sir."

"Good. By now, Clair should have finished releasing the seals on Trisha and some of the slaves."

"But what about Beovhan?" Interjected Maxmillian.

"If he hasn't bled out by now, then I can use him for information. After-which, we can deliberate his fate."

"And if he doesn't want to comply?"

Sygil chuckled lightly. "Maxmillian, have some more faith. With his wife and unborn child hostage, he wouldn't want to dare refuse me."

Maxmillian slowly nodded his head in understanding.

"Now all that leaves is just Trisha."

"What about the demi-human, sir?"

"She was a warrior, as were her sisters, I presume. We have a temporary shortage of defenders in our mercenaries. Those that aren't put to work on the fields or mines, will be placed in my new army."

Maxmillian couldn't help but let a frown form. "Forgive me for overstepping sir, but are you sure that is wise? She could easily betray you, and her skills are debatable."

Sygil took no offence. "Oh, I am relatively certain of where her loyalty lies. It is to her sisters and their safety, and since I can provide that, it is by extension given to me also."

"That isn't true loyalty, sir. And even if she were, what skillset can she offer that Hans or I cannot?"

Sygil merely waved a hand passively. "In terms of her skillset as a warrior? I personally do not have the highest expectations. Since she is from Gallheia's tribe, she has sufficient skills to, at the very least, make bandits and other sources of problems more… manageable. It's less about her skill, and more so she is a body that can fit into the fledglings of my army."

He took a calm breath confidently. "Besides, if it came down to it and she did indeed try to betray me, then I'd kill her. The same applies to the others. However, that is why I have seen to it to be a generous leader for them to follow. Loyalty out of gratitude minimises the very risk you are concerned about, which is what I have done. We just need to give it time for them all to come around." He flashed Maxmillian a brief, clipped smile.

Maxmillian nodded slowly, placing faith in his Creator to know what was best.

Sygil closed his eyes with a forlorn smile.

"Anyways, if all goes according to plan, then they will be a temporary army until we create a true loyalist army."

Maxmillian pursed his lips in concurrence. "Then all that leaves is informing the mercenaries of their new roles, as well as the residents and demi-humans."

"Precisely," nodded Sygil. "Actually, if you could fetch Alizia for me, and we can organise a proper contract and her new duties. Then we can get a proper move on."

Maxmillian snapped to attention. "Of course sir, right away!" With that, Maxmillian left the room, stepping over the corpse of the unfortunate mercenary from earlier.

Sygil reached over to grab a piece of paper from a nearby pile, before laying it on the table before him. Hans, out curiosity, glanced at it.

Sygil seemed to notice and answered. "It's the mercenaries old contract with Beovhan. If you could grab me a clean sheet, and I can create a new one with them, seeing as the old one is somewhat obsolete now."

Hans nodded his head in compliance, before reaching over to the shelf behind to grab a clean parchment. "Of course sir."

With that, Sygil began to reread the original contract, making mental notes of what to include, omit and amend.

* * *

It didn't take long before there was a brief knock on the door, upon which Maxmillian, towing Alizia, entered the room.

Closing the door behind them, Maxmillian stood diligently at attention, blocking the door. Meanwhile, Alizia was left standing in front of the desk where Sygil and Hans sat.

Sygil looked up, flashing a smile. "Ah, miss Grenevaulch. A pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise," nodded the woman stiffly. Everyone could tell she was uneasy, especially if the hand resting near the pommel of her sheathed sword was any indication.

"No need to concerned. I just want to discuss the terms and conditions of a new contract with you. Please, take a seat." He gestured to the empty seat before him.

She eyed the seat cautiously, before sending the same wary look to him, as if she half-expected the seat or him to lash out and bite her in half.

Wordlessly, she pulled the chair out and slid into it.

"You summoned me." There was no mistaking the trepidation in her voice, but he couldn't entirely fault her. After all he had all but a few hours ago brazenly claimed ownership over everything, and proceeded to summon monsters from the shadows to mercilessly slaughter those that opposed him. The slaughtered being her comrades most likely, assuming she had formed a familial bond with the mercenaries, which was likely.

Sygil steepled his fingers, an air of confidence and control exerted as he leaned slightly forward.

"Indeed I did. After all, considering the recent change in employment you have experienced, alongside your sudden promotion, it only makes sense that I be fair and offer you a new contract."

Alizia eyed him, sending a cursory glance to the newcomer she hadn't previously seen before; Hans.

"Of course, I appreciate the generous sentiment."

"Excellent," Sygil leaned back in satisfaction.

"Not much has changed when compared to your previous contract," he slid the new written contract before her to read for herself. Regardless, he summarised briefly.

"Aside from some additional duties that you will perform, you will be pleased to note that you and your fellow mercenaries will receive a small pay increase to 8 gold per month."

Alizia steeled her expression to remain neutral as she turned the contract around to read it for herself.

"You and your mercenaries will answer directly to myself and my two subordinates, Hans," he gestured to the uniformed man seated on his left, " and Maxmillian."

Alizia nodded as her eyes skimmed over the contract quickly, attempting to discern any dangerous loopholes for her.

"Of course," continued Sygil, "Your new duties are a little more extensive and beyond simple policing now. I expect you and your comrades to have an extra vigilant watch over my property and the residents. I cannot afford lax behaviour from anyone, and any and all threats must be dealt with swiftly and harshly." Alizia detected the warning underneath those words for both her and the mercenaries as well.

"You will also be expected to assist with any other matters myself or my subordinates deem necessary."

She placed the contract down after reading it.

"Of course, though," by now Sygil's tone became more serious. "If you feel you or your mercenaries are not up to the task, then that means I would have to find a replacement."

She did not like the implications of those words, and the cold, neutral expressions directed by everyone in the room made her feel like a little sheep in a room with wolves.

She did not like this one bit, but at least she could admit the pay was somewhat nicer. Plus the contract didn't seem to ask of anything too concerning.

After careful consideration, she cautiously answered Sygil. "After considering what you have offered in your contract, I am willing to accept the conditions of your employment, as would the rest of my comrades." God, she hoped this wasn't a mistake, but she was loath to admit she was in no real position to refuse. And considering the fate of the other mercenaries that refused, she didn't think it was wise to either.

Sygil straightened up, flashing a satisfied smile. "Excellent. Hans and Maxmillian here have some duties they need to take care of, and will require the assistance of you and your mercenaries. They will inform you of what is required. You can also expect to work alongside the newly released slaves in the near future, so I suggest any problems that both parties might have be buried effective immediately. We are all one cohesive unit now, and I want to it to stay that way. Am I clear?"

She nodded respectfully. "Absolutely. I hate to ask so soon, but when can we expect to receive our first payment."

If her new employer was offended, he didn't show it, even if Hans and Maxmillian bristled at the question.

"Provided you do an effective job, by the end of the week. If there are any other questions…?"

She shook her head.

"Good. All you have to do is sign the contract."

Slowly, she reached for the quill on the desk, and proceeded to add her signature to the document. It felt as if the world was coming to a stop as she signed her name. For better or for worse, her life, and her comrades, was going to change. She knew that much.

"Congratulations! Welcome aboard. Now, Maxmillian will be leading the reorganisation of the resident's new duties. You and your mercenaries will assist him where necessary. Meanwhile, Hans is going to take a group to start collecting all metals and ores in the town and ensure all of your fellow mercenaries sign the contract. You can help them sign."

If Alizia was sceptical, she did a good job masking it. "Of course," she replied neutrally.

"Good." He glanced at Maxmillian and Hans. "You know your duties. I expect them done by dusk."

"Yes sir," they both saluted in unison. "Excellent. I am going to manage Beovhan and Clair now. We'll meet later."

With that, Sygil Stood up and circled around the desk to the door, which Maxmillian opened for him to enter.

Nodding his thanks, Sygil stepped out, before stopping and glancing back at Alizia.

"Oh, and have someone come clean up the body in here." And with that he left. Alizia glanced at the body on ground which served as a stark reminder.

Maxmillian glanced at Hans briefly, who respectfully nodded. The main plan was established. Now, it was time to enact it.

* * *

Trisha couldn't help but feel amazed and empowered at finally having that blasted seal removed from her neck. It was just as much a surprise to her as it was to her sisters, and she daresay even Clair.

She couldn't help but let a cruel smirk form on her face. That filthy human, that wretched bitch that had caused her and her sisters so much pain, was now facing some of the consequences for her actions. She would almost dare to say it was as if divine justice was being wrought upon her, but she knew the truth was less savoury. It was servitude from one master to another. And with that, her thoughts soured.

Sygil was an interesting character. He promised her and her sisters safety and deliverance in exchange for total loyalty. He spoke with confidence and conviction, and after witnessing the carnage he was capable of bringing, she didn't doubt he was capable. But, she was also wary. He was devious, and dangerous, just like her previous masters. But he also felt like something more. And it wasn't necessarily pleasant. She had witnessed many men, all human, act the same. With cruelty and violence. It seemed to be the only language they understood, not that she and her sisters were any different. They acted and fought with honour, however. Or at least, that was what she used to believe.

She remembered following Gallheia's orders, agreeing that the humans should be curbed and controlled, for they were naught but a pest, a parasite infecting the lands. She also remembered her fateful mission with her sisters, to retrieve a few strong men, so their seed could be used to help create the next generation of future warriors, afterwards they would be disposed of. Before, she thought nothing of it, but now, after being raped and beaten, she had begun to appreciate how previous clan victims had felt. Despair, and hatred.

Now though, it would seem she was at the end of that road of suffering.

_And onto a new path into hell_, she thought bitterly as she glanced over to where Sygil and three others were walking from the mansion, their footsteps alerting her to their presence.

It wasn't like there was much she could do anyways. Or her sisters for that matter. The strange beasts that came from the shadows saw to that. Clair had been reduced to a bubbling mess, and was desperate to undo her seal so she could save her husband. She sneered at the thought of him. She hated the couple, and she hated this miserable town.

Once Clair had finished, she was then allowed to heal her husband, who was afterwards taken by two of the mercenaries and held over by the fountain. Frankly, she would have preferred to let him bleed out. But alas, she was in no position to do so.

Clair had set to freeing the remainder of the slaves, her sisters. If she was reluctant, she didn't show, instead diverting all of her intent and focus into releasing every single one of her sisters. Though, perhaps having one of those demon-esque hounds literally breathing down her shoulder helped.

Upon glancing at them, she recognised the woman mercenary and one of the uniformed men. The other was dressed similarly, but she hadn't seen him before.

The group seemed to split up, with the uniformed men barking out orders to the mercenaries. The woman with them seemed to be assisting them. However, she paid little attention to them as she observed Sygil approach her and her sisters.

"Ah Clair. Just the person I was looking for." The woman stopped what she was doing, glancing up hatefully at the monster standing before her.

Sygil stopped before her, looking down on her as she was crouched down releasing the seal from another slave.

All of the demi-humans seemed to stop any idle chatter amongst themselves and glance up at the human before them. Sygil paid them no heed however.

"How is the progress going?" He almost seemed cheerful.

Clair wanted to spit at him, to shout insults and profanities at him, and to violently butcher him. But, she held her tongue. After the events from several hours ago, she had come to realise she was not in an ideal position. For now.

"I have released most of the slaves seals…"

"See…" smiled Sygil fatherly. "That wasn't so difficult now, was it."

She held her tongue.

"How long until you are finished?"

"You do realise that – " "I don't want excuses. Give me a realistic time frame, or I will finish the job with Beovhan."

Her mouth snapped shut. She had been permitted to heal Beovhan as best as she could, but it was not much. Just enough to seal the puncture wound to his stomach and stop his hand from bleeding out. His hand, however, couldn't be salvaged, not that those blasted hounds permitted her to. And those bloody savages she was being forced to release seemed to enjoy that, even if they didn't voice it. Damn them all! If she couldn't be in control with her husband, then she was going to see to it that no-one could prosper from this outrage. She just needed to be patient.

"Only a couple hours left, at the rate I'm going."

"Then you have one. Don't damage them in the process."

She couldn't help but gape at Sygil. "This takes time, a-and I –" She was cut off by the hound growling next to her hear, which effectively silenced her complaints.

Sygil looked coldly down upon her disdain. "Remember that I am in charge around here now. You would do well to remember that. Now finish up. Or I'll finish Beovhan."

With that turned away from her, focusing his attention on Trisha.

"Now Trisha… How are you enjoying your new freedom?"

Trisha just scowled at him. "From one master to another. How do you think I feel."

"Aw don't be like that," he chided. "It's a mutual agreement, where you are placed under my employ instead. This isn't slavery. Besides, we already discussed what your expectations are. After all, we made a deal. Unless you want to go back on it?"

Trisha frowned. In reality, her circumstances weren't the worst. They were certainly better than what was previously organised between her and her previous masters. Still, she hated the fact that once again she was now a servant. At least, however, she had her seals removed. And so were her sisters. Even though she didn't voice it, she was somewhat grateful towards Sygil for helping free her and her sisters from their previous enslavement. If he was genuine, then he was indeed making the right steps towards building trust. Or, he was that confident in himself. _Or rather, his hounds…._

"No…" she murmured. "I… I can accept the terms you have proposed. So long as you hold your end of the deal. Otherwise, we'll have problems." That last part was directed at him sharply; a warning to not betray her. It was frankly quite amusing. And for that, he let the comment slide. After all, given time he was assured she would come around completely.

"I assure you, I have no such intention." She couldn't tell if his reassuring smile was genuine or not, so she paid it no heed. However, she noticed him start to look around as if searching for something.

Furrowing her brow quizzically, she inquired. "What are you looking for?"

"Where's Beovhan? He was here when I left him?"

"Oh. After Clair healed him, two of the mercenaries dragged him over to the fountain over there," she gestured to a fountain in the middle of the paved road down the street where, sure enough, were two figures standing watch over a slumped figure.

Sygil narrowed his eyes upon glancing at Beovhan from afar. "I see. Well, I'll deal with that situation later once Clair is done. In the meantime," he glanced back at the huddled ex-slaves before directing his attention to Trisha. "Have you informed them of their new arrangement?"

Trisha pursed her lips. "I… mentioned that they will likely be placed under new employ."

Sygil shook his head. "Not likely. Definitely. Let me remind you of the deal we had. I free all of you in exchange for absolute loyalty. After all, everything comes at a price."

"And what exactly is this price?" a voice from the huddled demi-humans called out.

Sygil raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"

The demi-human stood up, revealing an older tanned woman draped in a ratty brown cloak to shield against the cold. "More importantly, who are you? We hear claims that you are our benefactor, yet you seem to be holding Trisha hostage to a verbal arrangement. I do not presume to know the details, but I do beg the question, for all of us, what are your intentions?"

"An exchange. I promised to grant you all your freedom, security, safety and lodging to Trisha. In exchange, you will loyally serve me as the foundations of my new army, as well as provide some additional labour. You will be compensated for your work, of course. I do want to set the precedence that I indeed want to genuinely see to your wellbeing."

Perhaps it was best not to say that as many of the demi-humans looked around him sceptically, looking at the blood and carnage that still hadn't been cleaned up. A result of his displeasure.

"Really?" The woman raised her own eyebrow.

_Oh for fuck's sake, can't you just accept the fucking deal and situation. I just saved your asses._

He didn't voice such thoughts, though, opting to remain composed.

"Exactly. Your freedom and safety in exchange for a loyal army and workforce."

The woman hummed to herself. "We need time to think this over." Sygil's patience was beginning to wear thin.

"You misunderstand. This isn't an _option_ for _you_. I made a deal with Trisha, who represented your behalf, so ultimately the decision rested with her. And she has agreed to the terms. The matter is settled, and I will not waste any more time while you decide whether or not you choose serve me. I have granted you your freedom, and I guarantee your safety. However, only if you agree to pledge allegiance to me."

The woman's eyes narrowed as she spat at him. "I don't think you understand, _human_. We serve Gallheia. Not you. So don't – " the words died in her throat as she felt and heard sudden breathing down the nape of her neck.

She turned around and everyone scrambled back away in shock as another shadow-hound materialised behind her.

Sygil strode forth methodically to her, his voice containing an edge to it as his eyes narrowed.

"No I don't think you understand. Gallheia abandoned you, whereas I have delivered you from the hell that was your life. I think you can _all_ appreciate that truth. So let me make things clearer to you."

By now, he was looming over the woman. "Any past allegiances you hold are long since severed. It is futile to place faith in a woman that holds little interest for your lives, as Gallheia did."

The woman sneered at him, a small act of defiance. "Oh please, as if you care about our lives. You intend to just use us."

She had guts, he had to admit. Most people usually cowed before him, especially once he summoned a shadow-hound to help… move negotiations along.

"No. But at least I am honest about my intentions. What I expect of you all, I have already stated. Trisha can inform you all in more detail. But that is the ghist of things."

He stepped back from the woman and surveyed all the remaining demi-humans, including Trisha.

"I do intend to see an improvement in your conditions. But I can only guarantee that if you all pledge allegiance to me. Otherwise, you are a liability. And I do not like liabilities." They all seemed to understand the implications, even though they remained silent.

"I suggest you all forget Gallheia, for she has certainly forgot about you. Together, we can make a better future. But I will need your loyalty."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment.

"I'll give you one hour to reach a consensus. That will give Clair here enough time to finish freeing you all. Trisha can help fill you in on any of the finer details. I hope you choose wisely…."

And with that ominous warning, he turned and left, heading towards Beovhan and the two mercenaries watching over him.

Trisha and the others glanced at the shadow-hounds prowling in the darkness around them. It wasn't like they could actually do anything to resist at this point in time.

* * *

The two mercenaries standing guard over Beovhan glanced up upon hearing footsteps getting closer. They quickly grew wary upon seeing who it was that was approaching. They had just been informed of their new arrangement by Alizia and a uniformed man named Hans.

Upon remembering the slaughter from earlier, they were more than happy to concede to the new contract. Their loyalty was bought less out of coins and more-so out of fear, and for good reason.

"Mister Augustus. Are you awake?" Sygil sounded bored. Beovhan stirred, tilting his head up as the two mercenaries held an arm each to hold him in place.

Beovhan felt a scowl cross his face upon seeing Sygil before him.

"Fuck off."

Sygil chuckled at that. "How quaint."

He straightened up, before addressing the two mercenaries.

"Go and grab two cages that the slaves would normally sleep in and bring them out the front of my mansion now." The two mercenaries looked at each other uncertainly, until Sygil snapped at them more loudly. "Now goddammit!"

That spurred the two on, and they borderline ran off to go fetch the two cages, unawares of the shadow-hound that Sygil tasked to track and observe them so that they didn't flee.

Beovhan didn't miss how Sygil referred to his own home as _his_ mansion now. He winced as he held the stump of where his hand used to be.

"You're fucking cocky one, aren't you," he all but practically spat.

Sygil kneeled down to him, carelessly letting his hands dangle over his knees, as he looked him straight in the eye.

"I am in control, is what I am. You are currently going through denial and anger, but that will change soon."

"What, you're gonna let me go then?" scoffed the injured man.

Sygil couldn't help but smile ruefully. "Now we both know that isn't going to happen. You are treading on precariously thin ice with me, but if you play your cards right, you could find yourself back on stable land."

"And what is it you exactly want? You've already stolen everything from me."

"Now, now. I don't steal," admonished Sygil. "You helped draft and sign a new deed for me willingly."

"Bullshit, and you know it. This is fucking extortion!"

"Oh please, you practiced the same tactics no-doubt."

"I didn't steal from people, nor did I extort them of everything they own!"

Sygil's eyes narrowed. Suddenly, Beovhan found it difficult to breath as a strong, leather-clad hand tightened around his throat.

"Don't. Lie. To me. Ever. I saw the records in your office. I know that you drug and traffic people and slaves."

Beovhan struggled to breath and stutter out. "What?! Y-you're… some… fucking saint?! Piss… off!"

Sygil regarded Beovhan for a moment longer, before finally relenting and letting go of his throat.

The man keeled over, gasping for air.

After a moment to regain his composure, Sygil stood up, dusting off his jacket dismissively.

"Why… why are you doing this?!" breathed out Beovhan haggardly.

Sygil just eyed him impassively.

"Is this for _justice?_ Because you feel sad for a couple of fucking animals?! Or peasants! Answer me you sick twisted fuck – OOOF!" His rant was interrupted by a painful kick to the family jewels, and the man keeled over again, this time clutching his nether region painfully.

"Get up."

The order was sharp and hard. Beovhan glared at the suited man in front of him hatefully.

Reluctantly, he stood up slowly, moreso out of spite than compliance.

Before Beovhan could do anything, Sygil roughly grabbed him by his collar and pulled him close before turning and shoving him in the direction of Clair and the demi-humans. "Start walking."

The first rays of sunlight could be seen arriving over on the horizon, signifying the arrival of dawn.

The dawn of a new day… and a new era.

* * *

It had been more than an hour since Sygil forced Beovhan to start walking, and currently he was sitting in his new office, reviewing more paperwork and writing notes down to help further clarify his current understanding.

Every now and then, he could hear a door downstairs opening, followed by several muttering voices and the clanging of metals being deposited.

He didn't know how much metal, or what types, were acceptable, so he wasn't taking any chances and had everything that was metal or valuable brought to the room below. From simple cooking pots to suits of armour; gold and silver, cast iron and gemstones.

He had a plan of action, but now he had to follow through on it and iron out any kinks present.

A knock on the door woke him from his thoughts.

"Enter."

The door opened, and the sight of Trisha greeted him, or rather momentarily surprised him.

"The rest of my sisters have come to a conclusion."

She didn't bother with pleasantries nor introductions, opting for going straight to the point.

Sygil nodded slowly. "I see. And….?"

Trisha kept her eyes somewhat downcast, as if she had regrets about what she was about to say.

"We have decided, that we will _assist_ you in your goals, so long as you stick to your end of the deal."

"Wonderful!"

"However," she continued, causing Sygil to tilt his head slightly.

"We also want some closure, concerning Gallheia."

Sygil narrowed his eyes at that. "You want to return to her?"

"No," she whispered softly. "We want to know of her fate. At some stage, we would… _appreciate_ it if you could give us closure on her."

Sygil started to realise what the request actually was, mouthing an 'ah' silently as he nodded his head slowly.

"Maybe at a later stage, I can see about that. However, now is not the time, as I need everyone's focus on the tasks at hand. Is that clear."

Trisha slowly nodded. "Yes."

"Was that all?"

"No. Clair," she sneered at the name, "has just about finished undoing the final seals on my sisters."

"I suppose that is important news. Good. I'll come down in a minute. I don't want them harmed yet, am I understood."

She understood he was referring to the couple, and while she would have loved the opportunity to inflict pain on them, she had a feeling that her new leader already had that base covered. If the carnage he had wreaked upon those that resisted, and on Beovhan and Clair had been an indication.

"Very well," she replied curtly. "I'll see you by the cages then."

And with that, she closed the door and left.

Sygil was left staring at the door, holding another document in his hands.

_Soon, everything will come together._

With that thought in mind, he stood up and began to leave the room. It was time to get some information.

* * *

Sygil couldn't help but cruelly chuckle at the sight that greeted him outside the mansion.

"Poetic, isn't it."

Beovhan simply glared at him from inside the cage he was placed inside.

Sygil ignored him as he continued. "You've gone from placing people in cages, to being placed in one yourself."

Beovhan jutted his chin out before turning his head to look away.

Sygil allowed a smirk to creep back onto his face as he walked over to Clair.

"Don't worry, I'll be with you in just a minute."

True to Trisha's words, Clair was finishing on literally the last slave.

Coming to stop mere metres away from her, he studied her. She looked exhausted, but he cared little for it. _All the more easy to break you and interrogate._

Glancing over to his left, he observed his new army and workforce.

They looked worn and haggard, some were malnourished, others were exhausted looking. All issues that could be resolved with time, so he wasn't overly concerned.

"I hear you are pledging allegiance to me."

Some of the demi-humans looked at him with disdain, others mistrust, and many more with uncertainty. While he expected just as much, it was a rather sad sight to see.

"Cheer up, this is the beginning of a new era. And you will all play a part in remaking history. In shaping the future." His words did little to change their expressions.

_Well, time will tell whether or not this is a worthwhile investment. I hope it is._

He still had to wait for Clair to finish undoing the last seal on the slave's neck, and so he opted to observe what she was doing.

Clair was kneeling in front of the demihuman before her, as if in prayer. The strange black tattoos inked on her neck could be seen to emanate a small blue light, with white and blue particles appearing around the tattoo.

Clair was mumbling something, but he couldn't quite catch it. Just as he leaned in to hear what it was, the light around the seal suddenly transformed into a bright green mist that emanated light. The tattoo flashed a bright white light, changing from black to pure white.

A gasp could be heard from the demi-human, while sweat poured down Clair's face as she scrunched her face up in concentration.

Suddenly, just as quickly as the green light appeared, it was gone, leaving a faded inked tattoo around the freed slave's neck.

Clair let a ragged breath as she finally finished her task.

It had taken more than the hour she was pressured to do, but that very pressure certainly served to motivate her to get the job done more quickly than the several hours she had intended. It was apparent it had exhausted her. It was a shame he didn't have time to afford to allow her to rest and recover.

Sygil slowly strode over, slowly clapping.

"Well done Clair." Clair looked up, disgust written all over her face. Whether at the tone as if congratulating a child over something menial and insignificant, or over the fact that she had been forced to release her slaves. Perhaps both, but it didn't matter as he reached her.

"You did exactly as I asked. However," her disgusted look suddenly turned to fear as he summoned a sabre into his hand, the motion appearing as if he had drawn it from within his jacket.

"I don't like it when people try to backstab me." The words were as sharp and cold as the very steel of his sabre that shone in the morning light.

Sheer terror shone in Clair's eyes as she fell over onto her back, attempting to scramble.

"W-what are you talking a-about! I did exactly as you asked!"

Sygil strode forward menacing, the blade outstretched to his side.

"Did you really think you could attempt to tamper with the seals to attempt to sabotage them on me?"

"N-no! I-I didn't. I swear!"

"Really now," he cocked an eyebrow up at her in annoyance. "And now you attempt to lie to me."

He sucked a breath in through gritted teeth. "I warned you there would be consequences if you attempted anything."

"No. Please don't kill me! I swear, I didn't do anything other than what you asked!"

He slammed his leg onto her left leg, pinning her from escaping.

"No please! I swear!"

Beovhan could be heard screaming from his cage as he grasped the bar with his good hand, banging his stump violently on the other bars. "YOU GET AWAY FROM MY WIFE YOU COCKSUCKER!"

Sygil ignored him, chuckling darkly.

"Oh really. Kill you? Do you think I'm going to let you off by granting you death? No, your child will suffer for your own actions instead."

Clair's eyes somehow managed to widen even more as he brandished the sabre and aimed it at her stomach. She defensively clutched her stomach in terror.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU TOUCH THEM YOU CUNT!"

Beovhan's frantic screams went ignored.

Meanwhile, in the crowd of demi-humans, many were shocked at what they were hearing. However, many of them, including Trisha, were silently revelling in what was about to transpire, enjoying the anguished screams of the couple.

They say the eyes are the window to soul, and right now, Clair's eyes screamed absolute terror as Sygil locked a hardened gaze with hers.

"Please," she whispered, tears leaking from her face, "I swear I didn't do anything other than what you asked! Please!"

Time seemed to slow down as he stared into her eyes, the sea of emotions pouring out drowning out Beovhan's screams.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Sygil slowly lowered his blade away from her, satisfied with what he saw.

Beovhan was still screaming and shouting useless threats from his cage, while Clair was still petrified with terror.

"Place her in the other cage." Trisha nodded, while Sygil let his sabre dissipate away.

"I'll talk to you and your husband later. Keep your honesty up, and I shouldn't have to go through on my threat."

Clair's racked sobbing could be heard as two of the demi-human women hoisted her by the arms and dragged her to the cage adjacent Beovhan. They were not necessarily gentle about it either.

Sygil turned around to fully address the remaining demi-humans and Trisha.

"Trisha. You are in charge of your demi-human friends. They are your subordinates. However, you all will answer to myself and my two subordinates Hans and Maxmillian."

Trisha looked up at him blandly. "What would you have us do then? You did say we have to serve you."

Sygil didn't fail to note the disdain accompanied by the word 'serve', and made a mental note to watch their progress and if their resentment to servitude of another would cause problems. They had just come out chains, per se, so he would grant them some time to adjust. For now.

"For now," directed Sygil, "you will continue your normal duties of harvesting food from the crops. Hopefully by the end of this week I will be able to relegate you to proper military roles once I get enough equipment."

"I thought you wanted us to play a more military role," questioned on of the slaves in the back.

_I made absolute certain to state your entire duties. I don't like repeating myself…._

Sygil opted to be patient instead.

"Most of you will, once I have finished restructuring the current workbase around here. Until then, you will serve as a labour force where required. And right now, I require a labour force. The mercenaries will deal with any threats, both foreign and domestic. I trust you know where to find your tools and how to farm?"

A couple of disgruntled nods and murmurs confirmed that.

"Good. Hopefully, by the end of this week at the latest, you will have the equipment and clothing you need. Maxmillian will see to your accommodations. Any questions?"

"What about the other humans living here?"

Sygil waved the question away dismissively. "They are currently being re-educated on what their new duties and expectations are. There should be no problems from the residents, nor do I expect you to cause any. Otherwise, the offending person will be dealt with. Anything else?"

There wasn't.

"Good. Remember, strength comes from unity. You are all dismissed. Trisha, walk with me."

Confused, she began to follow him when a voice called out to Sygil.

"Sir. I have rounded up all of the town residents and informed them of their duties. Compliance has been… better than expected."

She glanced over, seeing Maxmillian standing at an attention pose, with dozens of residents in tow, and several mercenaries guarding them.

Upon closer inspection, she could see a couple residents had bloodied or bruised feature, but the majority were otherwise unharmed. At least, physically. There was no mistaking the fear on many of their faces. It brought her some satisfaction, seeing the humans that had allowed this to happen to her, that partook in her violation as well as her sisters, stand there in fear. Ultimately, though, she would have preferred to see their corpses laying on the ground instead.

"I see. Have they surrendered their metals and ores to Hans?"

"He is in the process of still acquiescing them. There is surprisingly a lot more than we expected. I doubt we can actually store all of it in the mansion."

"It matters not. Once we have enough, we can try the automaton."

_What's an aw-toe-may-ton?_ She didn't get to inquire, however, as the conversation kept moving ahead.

"The inferiority of many of the metals concerns me, sir. I do not know if we can actually make one successfully."

"Still worth a shot. And even if we can't, we can have much of it smelted down to produce weapons and armour. Foundations are important after all."

"Of course sir. There aren't any mines in the town, unfortunately. So, what would you have me do with these," Maxmillian gestured to people he was leading.

Sygil leaned his head to the side to get a better look at them, ignoring the fearful looks on their faces.

He hummed to himself for a minute as he pondered what he wanted.

Finally, he spoke up.

"Any skilled workers, blacksmiths, forgers, builders and so on, have separated and put to work on their respective trades soon. Any other suitable hands can be sent to assist them and increase productivity. As for the rest… they can either assist with the collection of any valuable items and metals. Either that or the fields with the demi's."

"Of course sir."

"Where's miss Grenevaulch?"

"She is assisting Hans sir. Do you want me to bring her before you, sir?"

"No… no, that's fine. I actually will need your help with something, provided you have finished rounding everyone up?"

"Not quite sir. These were the more compliant ones. Some others have been holed up in their houses, so I have set what few remaining mercenaries there are in helping them understand the gravity of the situation, sir. What did you require?"

Sygil pursed his lips as he held a fisted hand to his lips, thoughts racing through his head. Eventually, he came up with a solution.

"Have the mercenaries continue their duties. Trisha can take over the delegation of the residents. The mercenaries here can assist her." He directed his gaze at the residents and mercenaries.

"I trust there will be no problems with that?"

Wisely, no-one objected, too fearful of disappointing the man that had set monsters upon the town.

"Good. Trisha." She straightened up at the mention of her name.

"See to it that they are organised carefully. And preferably unharmed. Oh, and have a couple residents come clean up this mess out here, I'm getting sick and tired of nearly slipping in the blood every time I come out these doors." He gestured widely to the several corpses, blood sprays, trails and stains and bloody entrails that were scattered everywhere. It always surprised him how much of a bloody mess a single human body could leave. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought a bomb had exploded in some of the bodies, there was just that much blood. It just showed how strong and vicious his hounds could be, a testament to their nature.

Trisha nodded her head, and beckoned for the troupe to follow her, which they did.

Sygil watched them leave, going around the mansion behind it. Maxmillian's voice broke his concentration, however.

"Forgive me for asking sir, but why did you trust them to that demi-human?"

"A test of sorts. She will be leading the freed demi-humans for me. Since she is supposed to be one of the strongest amongst their group, a leadership role is automatically expected in their eyes. So, I want to see how much of a leader she really is."

"And if she just baselessly kills the residents? If the automaton doesn't work, we would lose some potentially valuable assets for you empire, sir. And all because of her personal grudge towards these humans."

"Oh please," chuckled Sygil. "They are just as much a means to an end as she is. If she kills them or fails, then it proves that she is not suitable to have around. And I would rather find out about that suitability now, rather than later when such actions will deeper potential ramifications for us."

Maxmillian hummed ruefully. "I suppose you have to start somewhere then…."

"Indeed." There was a momentary pause, before Maxmillian spoke up again.

"You asked for my assistance sir? Does it pertain to Mr and Mrs Augustus?"

"Ah, yes actually," exclaimed Sygil, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Since Clair has finished releasing their seals, her use is somewhat non-existent…."

"Except as a bartering tool for Beovhan," finished Maxmillian.

"And potentially for others out there in the world," added Sygil.

"There are too many inconsistencies in their records, and not enough answers, so I want to hear it directly from the horse's mouth."

Maxmillian appeared to become lost in thought for a brief moment, before looking back upto Sygil.

"Forgive me for asking sir, but why did you suspect that Clair was lying about the seals earlier?"

"You heard that?"

"Yes sir," nodded the uniformed man in affirmation.

"Oh I knew she wasn't lying from the beginning," dismissed Sygil, an amused smile creeping on his face.

"Then why did you – " "Waste time with such a pointless accusation? Maxmillian, my friend," internally Maxmillian beamed at that, even if he didn't let it show. "I like to always cover my bases. I wasn't here during the whole process of her undoing the seals, and even though my hounds provided the necessary intimidation factor, they can't tell if her actions were genuine. That was just my way of fishing for the truth and double-checking. I honestly doubted she would have tried anything anyways, but there is some merit to it."

"Forgive me for saying so, but that sounds as if you still doubted her?"

"I'd be smart to doubt her, even if I have my own assurances. I've experienced betrayal before, and I'd rather not have it happen again. But that was only part of my reason."

Maxmillian quirked an eyebrow up.

"It served me other purposes. It lets me know how to gauge when she is telling the truth to a limited extent. But it also helps me break her, and Beovhan, before we get to the real questions in a minute."

"Would you have stabbed her and the child then sir?" Maxmillian was curious.

"Psychological torture is more effective than any physical form. I wanted to break her will before she could even muster it. To answer your question… that would ultimately depend. I'd hate to kill a pure soul, especially one that hasn't had a chance to even be born yet. Such souls are so rare and far and few in-between that they should be cherished instead. But. I was not lying when I said I'd follow through on my threat. They know what is at stake, so the questioning should be easy."

"If that is the case, then why do you specifically need me?"

"Because," began Sygil as he turned to walk back to the cages, Maxmillian keeping step with his strides. "While I want to know all of their extra dealings and connections, I'll need your assistance when it comes to collecting information from Clair concerning the Tiered magic around here. Differences, limitations and any other useful things. Considering your knowledge and familiarity, you would be most useful for that."

Maxmillian almost genuflected. "Thank you for your considerations, sir. You are too generous."

Sygil was about to dismiss the blind fanaticism, but he had already arrived before the two cages. Therefore, instead, he opted to observe the two prisoners of his.

In the left cage, covered in some blood and grime, was Beovhan, who looked stressed out. And to his right, was Clair, who was hugging herself and quietly sobbing.

Tilting his head, he spared a brief glance at Maxmillian. "Well, it comes down to this anyways."

With that he turned back to face Beovhan.

"So…. I have a couple questions for you and Clair. And I would very much appreciate some answers."

* * *

**Author's note: Well, I apologise for the long delay, but things have been busy. And damn, this year's been a thrashing.**

**First the bush-fires coming into 2020, then Soleimani being killed, then covid, then the global lockdown's and absolute destruction being wrought upon our economy. And finally, global protests and riots. And we're barely half-way through the year. On these projections, I expect the stock market to crash by September, and a full on global revolution leading to what would be a third world war by January next year. Sheesh, I hope I'm wrong.**** I hope everyone has been doing well otherwise, or, as well as people can during these trying times.**

** I originally intended to publish this chapter by the start of April, but between the above and uni, well, that never happened. I've never spent so long on writing a chapter purely because I had to focus less on furthering the plot, but more on tying up loose ends so I can continue the plot. This chapter was originally intended to be short, ~7k. Either that, or encompass this two-part arc into one, but I ended up writing more, and I have decided to cut it off here. Next chapter will finalise all this stuff, and hopefully be more entertaining.  
**

** I tried to make it as entertaining as possible, but I still feel I have let you as an audience down somehow. This has gone through many edits, and ultimately, I have settled on this as it does tie all the boring stuff up. But, on the positive side, you can expect the next upcoming chapters to become more entertaining. Shit's gonna start hitting the fan real soon.**

** I'm also considering going back to some of my earlier chapters to rewrite. Nothing major, just a patch-up of the dialogue so it hopefully reads less cringe-inducing and makes more sense. Hopefully I've made it entertaining enough, as well as structurally sound, so far. But I feel it can be better. I doubt they will be immediate changes, but I am considering some, and I would appreciate it if you could help point out some areas that read as either cringey or non-sensical (from a dialogue perspective, but if there is that much of a flaw in the plot, please do point it out). I try to publish finished products, but hey, sometimes things need amending. **

** Hopefully the next chapter will be out within the next little while, but again, I don't want to create false expectations, so I won't say any release dates. Sorry. Now onto reviews.**

* * *

**To snorlax285: Thank you! I hope this story continues to deliver for you.**

**To God-of-Evil 45: Sorry this has disappointed your expectations, but you are entitled to your opinion. If you do bother to continue reading, I hope it becomes more enjoyable for you. Otherwise, take care.**

**To Guest: OwO: Hopefully that hasn't turned you off, as the story will continue to go 'darker' as put it. Then again, 'darker' is subjective to perspective. **

**To g77471164: I might take a while to update, but it would be poor taste on my part to abandon a story that people, no matter how many or how few, enjoy. I'll try to keep the chapters long (over 10k), but I can't guarantee that always. I'd rather publish a good short chapter than a long mediocre chapter. But generally, I like longer chapters anyways, so you can expect them in the future :) Thank you, and may you have a great day also!  
**

**To my other readers: If you enjoy, I'm glad to be of service. If not, let me know what any issues might be. I want to be a better writer after all, and feedback is what helps.**

**Take care and stay safe everybody!**


	13. Very Important Author Update Rewrite

**Hello all!**

**I am posting this update to inform you of some important things right now.**

**Don't panic! I am not cancelling this story!**

**I am simply just informing you that I am officially postponing new chapters in favour of doing a re-write/ edit of this story.**

**There have been several glaring issues that have become more prominent to me, mostly concerning the dialogue and my use of descriptive language to tell an engaging story.**

** As such, I am taking the time to rewrite this story and try and change this for the better. **

**The reason why this update is important is because I am posting my rewrite on Archive of Our Own for now. I've wanted to try it out for a while, but never got around to it, and now seems like no better of a time.**

**I'll leave this story as it currently is posted on FFN, purely for reference points if you want to supply feedback on what I should focus on improving. Some of you have mentioned some changes and improvements in the past, and I always take the time to listen and fix things, so it won't be invalid.**

**The rewrite will be temporarily exclusive to AO33 until it is done, and then I will hopefully repost all of the chapters here in one go on FFN. I just find editing documents here on FFN to be a pain at times, and want to try a different platform.**

**I will still check on both platforms if you have any feedback or anything to add.**

**The story is posted as The Domino Effect under darksinner666, same as on here. It is under the Overlord tag, as per normal. If you have difficulty finding, here is a rough link to guide you. archiveofourown(dot ORG slash) works / 25327990 / chapters / 61409638.**

**Obviously, keep in lowercase, remove the spaces and add the slashes where needed.**

**Cheers, and take care :D  
**


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